Orzammar politics
by Kae Westu
Summary: COMPLETE! Don't forget to read the epilogue as well! *** What if Prince Bhelen's plans don't succeed? If Trian and their sister manage to escape his trap? Aeducan/Gorim, please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

_If you read my story, please send me a rewiev. It might be quite short as well. If you just write "I'm reading" or "Nice!" I'll still know it's worth writing another chapter. Thank you!_

The princess stood in silence for a while. Then she threw a side glance towards her faithful – no one could even guess _how_ very faithful – second and sighed.

'What do you think, Gorim?' she asked.

'Permission to speak freely, my lady?'

Sigra Aeducan, second child and only daughter to King Endrin of Orzammar, nodded. She looked at her younger brother, who stood there with a watchful glance. Whether Bhelen knew that the question really meant "May I speak my mind in front of your brother?" or not, it could not be read from his face.

'Trian would be a terrible king' Gorim said. 'Everyone knows this, but none dare say so. You however are popular with the Assembly, my lady. If you'd decide to go for the crown, Trian wouldn't stand a chance.'

Sigra shook her head.

'But I don't want to rule. I never wanted to.'

'I'm afraid Trian will never believe it, big sister' Prince Bhelen said tenderly. His voice was full of worry and sorrow. 'He wants to see you dead.'

'I… I refuse to discuss this any further!' Sigra avoided the gaze of both men. His brother, not much more than a child, looked at her sympathetically. With his blond hair, long, clean beard and cruel blue eyes, Bhelen was considered a quite handsome man among his dwarven people and he always knew how to react to others' feelings. The good ser Gorim stood next to him, only a bit taller, armored as always, though he wasn't permitted to bring his weapons into a prince's quarters. He wasn't a politician, but he could keep his secrets. Oh yes, he could.

'As you wish, big sister. Just be careful. I'd hate to see something happen to you.'

The princess felt confused. Thoughts whirled in her mind. She bit her lip and turned to her second.

'I wish to retire for tonight, Gorim.'

'_Atrast nal tunsha._' Bhelen smiled at both of them, seemingly not noticing being ignored by his sister. Gorim bowed to him and turned to his lady.

'Shall we?'

'Let's go. See you tomorrow, Bhelen.'

They didn't speak until they reached the princess's quarters because the royal guards posted on the corridor could have easily overheard them. Sigra tried to appear calm, in their eyes at least. His second's presence helped a lot in this case: Gorim wasn't only a worthy member of the warrior caste with unquestionable battle skills but also a sober, self-possessed man who rarely lost his temper about anything at all.

They entered Sigra's bedroom together. Gorim closed the door. Then he asked in a low voice, reminding the princess that there is always a chance of someone listening, especially now:

'My lady?'

'Why would Trian have me killed?' Sigra asked. 'He knows I'm no threat to his claim. Politics tire me. Being a commander of the army is everything I want.'

'And you'll be a splendid commander' Gorim nodded. 'One of the best, if not the very best he can have. He is no fool to sacrifice a gifted commander like you just to his paranoia. Which leads to the conclusion…'

'…that it's all Bhelen's idea.' Sigra wasn't surprised. His younger brother never ceased to show interest in politics and the art of ruling, though he served Trian without a word of complaint.

As heir to the throne, Trian was seconded by his brother just the same way their sister was by Gorim. Being bossy and autocratical not only to members of the lower castes but to the younger Aeducans as well, Trian was never liked by either Bhelen or Sigra. The younger prince still didn't ever look annoyed by his tempers. Of course, if he planned to get rid of him, it was the only wise attitude in order to avoid suspicion.

'It sure sounds possible, my lady. Bhelen would likely favor you instead of him. I still feel worried, though.'

'I'm afraid the one Bhelen would really favor is himself' she said with a small, bitter smile. 'And while I hate politics, I am no fool: this means he is trying to get rid of both Trian and me.'

Gorim took a step towards her, and then stopped. He opened his mouth and closed it without saying a word. He's been seconding her for seven years now, from the very day she was considered an adult. No one knew her better than him. Her smile told him everything he needed to know: her shock, her disgust, her whole world torn apart by politics which she always tried to evade.

Gorim hesitated for a moment. He felt an urge to hold her or at least her hand, to kiss her and say he'd protect her from any harm. Had he been from her caste as well he'd have done it, would have done much more. In fact he would have married her years before if not for the strict caste system of Orzammar that didn't allow any warrior to look upon someone in the standing of a princess – nor a princess to fall in love with a simple knight like him.

They still looked at each other the way they weren't permitted to; the way secret lovers do. They've been in love for years and though they have always been extra careful to hide it they suspected it wouldn't go unnoticed forever. There was always a possibility of someone spying on them, especially in the royal palace full of hidden corridors and secret rooms. Being caught together could result in Gorim's exile or death and this was a risk Sigra refused to take.

Once in a while they went out together to the Provings for some practice of battle skills. There, when no one could observe they could make love and assure each other that their feelings are unchanged, yet they didn't dare to do it often. They didn't want to risk that their loving glances become their traitors. It seemed best to keep their relationship as formal as possible and treasure the stolen minutes in the Proving grounds.

'My princess' Gorim said. He shook his head and started over. 'My lady, if this is indeed what your brother plans, we need to get evidence. Not that it will be easy. Prince Bhelen is a careful man.'

'What do you suggest we do?'

'Let me handle it, my lady. There are people who might talk if I ask good questions. It will take some time, though.'

'We don't have time' she said. 'We'll head to the Deep Roads tomorrow. Bhelen will have all the possibility he needs to make Trian and me kill each other.'

Gorim had to accept the truth of these words.

'There is another way' he said slowly. 'Let's stay here tomorrow. If you have a somewhat serious injury, they can't send you to the Deep Roads tomorrow.'

Sigra's face hardened.

'I just became commander. I can't allow myself to stay behind and I'm not willing to. I will handle the situation my way. We go to my father at once and ask him to send for Trian. If Bhelen plays a secret game, we'll bring it to publicity.'

'If you'll excuse me, my lady, it is a dangerous idea. Prince Bhelen will deny everything and you'll get in trouble for slandering him.'

Sigra threw a hurt glance towards him.

'I won't mention Bhelen's name' she said.

Gorim bowed his head.

'As my lady wishes.' He paused for a while, and then he added, barely louder than a whisper, 'May the ancestors look down upon us.'


	2. Chapter 2

King Endrin was a noble and good dwarf and a natural leader who could easily manage Orzammar's problems and the day-to-day tasks of ruling. The Assembly kept him in high regard and he was popular with the crowds as well. He dedicated his life to his beloved city. Rumor said that the only one he cherished more than Orzammar was his daughter and this was the only reason he didn't make her his heir. Everyone knew Sigra had different ambitions, ones that could not be found in the Chambers of the Assembly but in the battlefields. Some of the nobles didn't want to accept Trian as king after his father and they frequently approached the princess - all in vain.

_What if_, Sigra thought, _they finally understood me and went to Bhelen in my stead? He wouldn't have refused them._ It was a disturbing thought and when she shared it with Gorim, the knight said he feared the same. They hurried together to the throne room where they could find the king and his second, Lord Pyral Harrowmont talking about some Assembly matters before preparing to the day's most important part: going down to the Deep Roads to reclaim a precious family heirloom from the lost Aeducan thaig.

King Endrin stopped talking and looked at them as they entered.

'Father' Sigra bowed. 'Lord Harrowmont. We are sorry to bother you but there is a matter of some urgency that requires your attention, father.'

'Speak then, my daughter.'

Kin Endrin used to be a handsome man once. Though not young anymore, this was clearly visible. Sigra had some similarities to him, especially in her eyes and hair, but she wasn't ever considered beautiful. Not that it interested her at all. Gorim found her attractive and she took more pride in wielding a sword – two swords, in fact – than combing her hair all day long.

'Could you send for Trian, father?'

The king looked surprised, but he sent Harrowmont for Trian nonetheless.

'Please tell him not to bring Bhelen with him, Lord Harrowmont' the princess asked.

King Endrin nodded.

'You should have brought him with you' he said after Harrowmont left the throne room with a hint of reprimand in his voice.

'I think I had a reason not to do so. He might not be willing to listen to me and he may even have his reasons for it.'

King Endrin sighed.

'He is your brother. It pains me to see you don't treasure each other the way you should.'

_Don't be naïve, Father__, _Sigra could have said but she remained silent. Of course, her father knew how politics can turn brother and sister against each other and he was no fool to think it will be otherwise in his royal family. But he was a parent as well, not only a king. A parent who wanted to see his children understand each other.

Trian arrived in a couple of minutes. His eyes narrowed when he saw his sister but he remained silent, till he bowed to the king. He didn't show any sign of noticing Gorim whose standing as a knight wasn't high enough for the heir and he even neglected the presence of Lord Harrowmont who stepped next to his king without a word.

'Father, I hope my sister doesn't want to waste our time' the prince began. He had an arrogant, sharp voice. 'I have preparations to arrange before we can head out to the Deep Roads and I'm sure you have better things to do as well.'

Sigra and Gorim exchanged a knowing glance: they both noticed the poison of Bhelen's treachery in the voice of the eldest Aeducan progeny.

'I have a question, Trian' Sigra responded quickly, as she didn't want to see their father have to take the side of either of them. 'There are certain rumors in the palace. The odd thing is that it varies from time to time.'

'Bah, I don't have time for the petty gossip of the servants!'

'Neither do I. But this rumor doesn't come from servants. Tell me, Trian: Have you heard that I plan to kill you today and become heir to the throne myself?'

King Endrin leaned forward with an expression of surprise and regard. Also Trian seemed stricken for a moment, but then he nodded.

'I heard the same story, but with different names' Sigra said quietly. 'Certain… people told me that you feared my ambitions and wanted to see me dead. Today, in the Deep Roads.' She paused for a moment, and then she looked into his brother's eyes and continued with sincerity beyond dispute. 'Trian, I swear to you that I don't want the crown, nor would I like to see you removed. This gossip is nothing else but a try to turn us against each other. I say it the presence of our royal father so that you have no reason to think I want to double-cross you. May the ancestors curse me if I'm lying.'

Silence. For a moment nothing was readable from Trian's face. Then anger darkened his eyes and when he spoke, he turned to the king.

'Bhelen' he said. 'It's his doing. Your younger son tried to make me and my sister fight to the death and possibly have the winner removed from his way to the throne by the assembly. It is a treachery against my heirloom and your will, father. What do you intend to do about it?'

King Endrin seemed quite tired as he shook his head. His eyes reflected sorrow and pain.

'Do you have any proof?' he asked then.

'What do you want to prove?' his son responded. 'My sister told you what he said to both of us. I can confirmit. Do you question our words?'

'I'm glad that you believe me' Sigra smiled at Trian relieved.

'I've suspected for a while that Bhelen could not be trusted.'

'I do believe you' the king said. 'Both of you are honorable and noble-hearted, what sadly cannot be told about your brother. But I still cannot take any action without evidence.'

'May I speak, your majesty?'

Harrowmont and the Aeducans looked at Gorim with a surprise. Sigra remembered herself not to smile at him. Trian already disliked Gorim just because he was no noble and she didn't want to give him another reason to hate the man she loved. The king didn't show any feeling but politeness as he answered.

'What is your advice, ser Gorim?'

'A trap, your majesty. Let us make Prince Bhelen believe his plan worked. Let my lady and his royal highness fight in the Deep Roads and one of them feign death. Prince Bhelen might show his true colorif he arrives to this view.'

'A good plan, if I may say so' Harrowmont spoke for the first time.

'Not a bad one' Trian agreed reluctantly. 'I'll pretend to have overrun and killed my sister and we'll see what Bhelen has to say about it.'

_It's most unlikely Trian could kill me_, Sigra wanted to say. She has always been a better fighter than his brothers. Gorim touched her arm and slightly shook his head, so the princess closed her mouth without saying anything. Gorim was right: they should cherish that Trian is on their side this time and agree with him whenever possible so that he remains friendly.

'If what you suspect is true' Harrowmont said 'I fear Prince Bhelen's men have infiltrated your troops, even your personal escorts. He'll have his spies everywhere. They might even give a false testimony if this is what he needs to frame Prince Trian for the murder of his sister. You'll have to choose carefully whom you can still trust.'

'I trust Gorim' Sigra said. Gorim bowed to her in return and the other three men accepted her words.

'Well, _I _cannot trust _my _second' Trian seemed almost jealous.

'Then take me with you' Harrowmont offered. Though he wasn't a young man, he still could wield a sword. 'Prince Bhelen might accompany your father in my stead. I doubt he also has plans against him.'

Trian nodded.

'What do you think, father?' Sigra asked the king.

King Endrin thought about it for a short while, and then he rose from his throne.

'So be it' he said. 'Let us test your brother's loyalty. Go now, and prepare for battle. One of you shall fall today, if only for a short time.'


	3. Chapter 3

Dark, long lost tunnels. In the old times, before the darkspawn appeared, they functioned as an underground road network that led from thaig to thaig. Most of it has been sealed during the first blight and normally only the members of the legion of the dead ventured there.

The Deep Roads.

Sigra has been here before twice, both times with a well-armed group of the finest warriors, led by an experienced commander. First time they encountered only a few deep stalkers and a giant spider – the soldiers finished them off before she could have drawn her weapons – while on the second occasion, almost three years ago, they were overrun by darkspawn. Has it not been for Gorim she could have easily died then but her second protected her with his life and he got seriously injured in the process. It took him two months to recover and another half year before he could wield a sword like nothing had happened. They admitted to themselves there, in a forlorn cave of the Deep Roads, that they feel something for each other, though it still took another year until they first talked about it. Sigra actually believed that she fell in love with him while she saw him lying in the pool of his own blood, still conscious, surrounded by darkspawn corpses and he asked faintly, in an ever worrying voice if his lady was wounded. The princess decided then and there that there is no match for Gorim in Orzammar and swore she would never forget his willingness to sacrifice himself for her.

Now, as the commander of her own unit – filled probably with Bhelen's spies –, in brand new, specially prepared, shiny armor and much more confidence in her heart than previously, she smiled at Gorim who walked on her right. Whether he was thinking on that time here together or not, he didn't let see. He appeared calm and well-behaved just as if they were walking down to watch the Provings.

The dwarves set out as three small groups, each containing five to six dwarves, one of them lead by King Endrin himself. He marched in the first row, fully armed, with a smiling Bhelen in his escort. Trian's and Harrowmont's group followed them while Sigra's men watched their backs. The princess looked at her people, trying to find the traitors who only wait to testify against her for murdering his brother. There was nothing to read from the faces and she suppressed a small sigh. Gorim smiled at her for a minute and whispered:

'We are not taking any risks, my lady. The traitors won't stand a chance if they wish to harm you or Prince Trian.'

Sigra nodded. She knew every precaution was taken. It was not the fear of death or being framed that darkened her mood but the knowledge that there are people who would sell her out to his brother. Being always loved and cherished by everyone she knew, it was hard to accept that there are men who'd see her die and sleep well knowing their testimony was the cause of her death.

Gorim touched her arm so she forced herself to smile on him in return and lift her head as they marched on. The lost Aeducan thaig wasn't far from Orzammar; it only took a couple of hours to approach it. They were quite near when the king commanded the troops to stop. Trian, Harrowmont, Sigra and Gorim hurried to him and waited for his instructions.

'We have hoped for some Grey Warden reinforcements but it looks like Duncan and his men are being delayed for some reason' the king started to speak. 'It means that the task of clearing the main road remains to our troops, Bhelen.'

The youngest Aeducan nodded.

'You honor me, father. I won't fail you and neither will my men.'

Sigra felt Trian's gaze upon herself but she didn't return it. She was afraid that Bhelen or one of his confidents might catch it and find out their plan. It was safer not to look upon each other at all. And if she wanted to be totally honest with herself, she didn't like her brother better just because they were working together to stop Bhelen's treachery.

'May the Paragons favor you, and the Stone catch you if you fall' Harrowmont bowed his head. 'Prince Trian and his men will second the king in this dangerous task.'

Trian's face became red in a moment.

'I don't want to look cowardly sneaking after my brother' he said in an irritated voice.

'Are you questioning the battle plan?' King Endrin asked silently.

'I… no, I am not.' Trian turned to his people. 'Come, men, glory awaits!'

They marched away. Sigra watched his brother's back and couldn't help wondering how it will work out when they meet again soon.

'You may take your leave as well, Bhelen' the king added. 'I need to have words with your sibling.'

'Good luck then, my sister' Bhelen walked away, but not too far. He needn't listen though: he could be sure other people do it for him.

'I have a special mission for you' the king smiled at his daughter. 'In the eastern Deep Roads, there is a secret door carved into the stone. The darkspawn have made it impossible to reach so far, but my men and those of your brothers are going to change it. My father believed that the shield of the paragon Aeducan remained there, in the thaig, sealed behind that door, under the stones of the central room. Reclaim the shield, and glory will be yours!'

Any other time, Sigra would have been mad with joy receiving a quest like this. Fighting, retrieving an ancient heirloom of their ancestor and glory. Of course, she knew they are coming here in the hope of finding a valuable artifact, but she didn't dare dream that she'll be the one to look for it. Still, she could not be happy about it, she only saw how Trian and Bhelen will react when they hear what their father had her to do. It was not the first time the king showed them openly whom he favors most among his children. Sigra normally didn't' mind it but now she had to think about the consequences. Trian might be an ally today but he could change his mood rapidly and Bhelen's going to consider her an even greater threat than before. But she couldn't say no to her king, and she didn't want to disappoint her father.

'As you wish, father. Come, Gorim.'

Her three men followed as she walked into the tunnel with her loyal second on her right. They all held their hands near their weapons. She looked at them all, one by one. There were two scouts she didn't know, armed with a shortbow and some daggers, and Frandlin Ivo, a decorated fighter who was famous for preferring unusual combat tactics and weapons. He has been working on improving his house's reputation and importance for some time. Sigra wouldn't have thought about it before, but now that she knew about Bhelen's plan, Frandlin definitely looked the type that would betray her to gain credits by the future king.

She felt an urge to turn to the man and ask him how much Bhelen is paying him but she didn't dare risk their own plans, so she just looked at Gorim, asking for his help only with her eyes. Were here only the two of them, he'd hold her hand now. But it would have been too dangerous in the Deep Roads. They needed their escort, no matter how many spies it contained.

'Gorim, tell one of the scouts to go ahead of us' she ordered. 'The other one will watch our back and Frandlin may help him. You stay with me.'

'Understood, my lady.'

Sigra watched her second forwarding her orders and took a deep breath. For a moment she felt alone and powerless in the maze of dwarven machinations. But when she felt Frandlin Ivo's gaze upon herself, she suppressed her doubts with a smile, and drew her weapons. She could hardly wait to meet the darkspawn. They were at least something she could face.


	4. Chapter 4

They didn't have to fight much. The king's group finished most of the darkspawn and what they left was killed by Trian and his men. The princess and her escort had to draw weapons only once, when they mistakenly turned left into a dead end tunnel when they should have chosen the path leading straight forward. They found a darkspawn camp of a dozen enemies and it felt good to bathe their swords in the monsters' blood. They fought quickly and efficiently, only one of the scouts had to retreat with a somewhat serious injury. Sigra was lightly hurt on her forearm but it didn't unnerve her at all. Unlike the previous occasion, she felt quite confident, and it also helped a lot to fight back to back with Gorim. She trusted him more than ever and the touch of his armor on hers made her feel dizzy for a minute.

Frandlin Ivo killed three genlocks all by himself. The two scouts' bows dealt with another two. Sigra also overwhelmed two of them, and helped Gorim in finishing another one. The knight fought and killed the remaining four monsters. He couldn't help noticing the envy in Frandlin's eyes but he didn't care. He smiled at his lady when she squeezed his hand for a short moment.

'Congratulations, Gorim. I always knew you are the best.'

'Thank you, my lady. You do me proud as well.'

'We should go.' Frandlin's tone made it clear that they have been looking at each other a moment too long. Gorim knit the brows and turned to the man.

'We will leave when my lady says so' he said firmly. It felt good to see Frandlin back away from them.

'I meant no disrespect, ser Gorim. I'm sure Lady Aeducan also wants to take her leave.'

'It is not your place to decide.'

'It's all right, Gorim' Sigra said. Her voice was firm and clear, nobody could have felt the tension in it. 'We may go.'

They didn't speak any more until they found the secret door carved into the stone. Sigra opened it with her signet ring and she almost felt disappointed that there was no sign of more darkspawn in the area.

'We should be the first to arrive here' she whispered to Gorim. 'In fact, we should be the only ones who passed that door.'

'Maybe it kept the darkspawn out as well' Gorim said.

'I doubt it. Let's move carefully.'

'Commander!' The scout ran back to them. 'I found the darkspawn. All dead. Their bodies are still warm and the blood hasn't dried either.'

'So somebody _did _forerun us' Sigra noted. 'I wonder if it's friend or foe. Let's look for the shield and we may find it out as well.'

Frandlin Ivo and the scout changed glances. Gorim and her lady both noticed it. Sigra shrugged her shoulder. It was the proof she feared but now it didn't seem so bad at all. She only wished to go on with the plan and look in Bhelen's amazed eyes.

It wasn't hard to find the Shield of Aeducan, hidden in an ancient vault, though the artifact itself disappointed the group. It wasn't at all shiny, beautiful or even unique, and even if it held some magic, it couldn't be much.

'It's still the symbol of a great past, once wielded by a Paragon' Gorim said. 'Shall we move on, my lady? I fear we might be ambushed now that we have the shield.'

'Darkspawn don't ambush' Sigra replied a bit louder than necessary. She wanted to make sure Frandlin heard her. 'It's more likely they are just as dead as those other ones outside. Let's go, men!'

They left the vault in silence – only to find Trian and his men waiting outside. Sigra's face grew pale. So much depended now on how they played their role. Harrowmont wasn't present, but she couldn't guess why. She hoped he didn't get injured.

'And so my sister claims glory to herself once more!' Trian shouted. His voice seemed to be more irritating than ever and Sigra felt a sudden urge to fall back to the vault. The prince was indeed angry with her; his behavior was clearly not only a pose. Gorim took a step towards her and she was grateful for not lacking his ever calming presence.

'What can I do for you, my brother?' she asked. Her tone didn't leave place to politeness or courtesy.

'You may lay down your weapons! I know about your plan to murder me and take the throne for yourself. You are quite welcome to try it, if you want to die!'

Sigra looked back to her men with slight confusion. Something just came to her mind that they clean forgot the day before: what if one of Bhelen's lackeys happens to kill her or Trian?

'Very well then' she said. 'You always wanted to fight me, Trian. Let's do it, face to face, but we should leave our men out of it.'

'Afraid for the life of your little second?' Trian spit. 'Bring it on, if you dare, all of you! But if it pleases you, my sister, I shall kill you with my own hand!'

He charged without further warning, shouting, having his escort right behind him.

'Guard yourselves!' Sigra yelled and drew her swords. She took some dance-like steps behind, luring Trian out. No one else followed her: the escorts fought among themselves. She saw Gorim attacking only with his shield, knocking out his opponent instead of killing him, but then she had to turn away and face her brother.

'Frandlin Ivo is most likely a traitor' she whispered to him when no one looked and she was relieved to see her brother nod.

'I'll have his head.' Trian attacked without a warning.

Sigra moved to the side. They agreed to fake a fight for a few minutes before she collapses. She felt like dancing, but only for a minute. It was similar to the trainings with Gorim but she didn't feel the same trust. Trian wasn't as good a fighter as her second and he counterweighted his lack of skill by pure aggression. Sigra didn't enjoy fighting him at all. Suddenly she wanted to finish it, so she threw herself at Trian, leaving her bust open for an attack. Trian hit her hard with his mace – and they both froze for a second.

There was a vial of blood hidden in her specially prepared armor. Trian's mace should have smashed it but it must have moved into the cover of the breastplate, because it wasn't hit. Sigra, who was already prepared to fall to the ground, forgot herself in astonishment. Trian seemed angry with her, as if he blamed her for his unsuccessful movement.

'Keep fighting, you coward!' the princess shouted. She hoped her brother won't be too annoyed to lose his temper but it seemed that Trian understood the necessity of this farce. So they fought on, waiting for a chance to end the battle convincingly.

A minute passed or maybe two, when Sigra noticed Frandlin Ivo and the scout charging them. She panicked. _If they have a chance to attack Trian, they will kill him or force me to do so, that is for sure. _She found only one solution.

'Come on, men, help me!' she yelled and hoped that Trian would turn to face his new opponents.

Trian didn't turn, but he looked back above his shoulder and Sigra moved faster than ever in her life. She inflicted a light but heavily bleeding wound upon his brother's earlobe and knocked him unconscious with the hilt of her off-hand sword. Trian fell to the ground without a word.

Sigra knelt down next to him. Trian bled badly, but anyone could have noticed he was alive. Luckily, Gorim stopped the other men from approaching, but it was still risky to tell them what she needed to.

'He's dead. There is nothing I can do.'

'My lady' Gorim stood next to her, his face expressed nothing from what he thought. 'He attacked us first. You were well within your rights to defend yourself.'

'Are you all right, Lady Aeducan?' Frandlin took a step towards them. Sigra looked at him with an anger she didn't have to pretend.

'I just killed my brother. How do you think I feel?' she asked, hoping that Trian won't regain his consciousness before long.

'What do we do now, my lady? Shall we bring back these bodies to Orzammar?'

Sigra didn't have to answer this question: they heard heavy footsteps and the voice of the younger prince.

'Hurry up, father, I beg you, before it's too late…'


	5. Chapter 5

Sigra looked at her brother and felt very, very tired. So this was it. Bhelen really came here to betray his siblings. She hated politics all her life but it was worse than anything she had seen so far, and so was the sudden urge to kill Bhelen – or at least slap him in the face with her gauntleted hand.

But she didn't move. She merely stared at Bhelen, trying to notice just a slight hint of remorse or feeling uncomfortable in his eyes. It disturbed her a lot that she couldn't find either of them. Maybe her brother was a master of hiding his soul from anyone, possibly even himself, but it was still hard to see him like this. Still, for a moment she felt almost happy that she had to face him like that and not Trian. She doubted their elder brother could have stayed calm seeing Bhelen's calmness.

Their father played his role splendidly as well: he ran to Trian's body, not showing any confusion that it's Sigra standing and her brother lying in his own blood, and kneeled down next to him.

'My son…' He looked up and glanced to Sigra. 'What happened?'

'My lady is not responsible for this!' Gorim said firmly.

'We all know your qualities, Ser Gorim' Bhelen came closer, his eyes on Frandlin Ivo, 'but your loyalties make you a witness whose testimony is, to say the least, questionable. There are several more bodies here, father. I think we should ask this scout about what has happened.'

'Good idea. What can you tell us, scout?'

The dwarf looked unsure for a short minute. Then his gaze met Bhelen's and he started speaking:

'Lady Aeducan ordered us to attack Prince Trian on sight. We didn't want to, but we didn't dare oppose her either. Have mercy, great king. I've done as commanded. I've seen Lady Aeducan murder Prince Trian in cold blood. Then she ordered us to keep silent about it and they were planning to hide the bodies with ser Gorim when you arrived.'

'You treacherous worm!'

Sigra could hardly stop Gorim from cutting the scout down. After she caught his arm, she turned to King Endrin.

'It's a lie, my father. You know I'd never do such a thing.'

'Wouldn't you?' Bhelen grinned. 'You just told me yourself the other day that it's highest time Trian goes missing. And if you are innocent, what are you doing just here?'

'I was attacked by Trian, not the other way around, as you should know it, brother. It was you who warned me that he was up to something after all.'

'Lies and lies' Bhelen shook his head.

King Endrin raised his hand.

'Stop it! It pains me that my children fight among themselves. But there is at least one honorable man here. Frandlin Ivo, tell us: Does the scout speak the truth?'

'He… he does, your majesty. I'm terribly sorry.'

'Well, you should be, traitor!' Trian sat up. He looked dizzy but his voice was, as usual, arrogant and firm.

Sigra couldn't help sending a charming smile to Bhelen. The youngest Aeducan stood there like stricken by lightning.

'Trian…' he stuttered.

'It's good to see you are well and unharmed, brother' Trian stood up and walked to him. Sigra envied him as he hit Bhelen with his gauntlet. Bhelen fell to the ground and spit out three teeth. He avoided Trian's eyes.

There was a moment, when everybody looked at the two brothers except for Frandlin Ivo. He moved quickly to the side, pulled out his sword and stabbed it into the scout's stomach before he could have moved. Then he left the dying man and knelt down in front of Sigra.

'I beg for your mercy, my Lady Aeducan. I was misled. I have been threatened before we marched on to do what this scout commands. I thought Prince Trian dead and I feared for the life of my little daughter. That's why I confirmed his lies.'

'I owe you an apology too, big sister.' Bhelen knelt next to him. His mouth still bled. 'I indeed heard rumors that you plan to kill our brother. When I saw Trian there, I feared the worst and it took the better of me. I just wanted to avenge his death somehow…'

'So it wasn't you who planned this plot all along?' the king asked in an iron voice.

Bhelen looked shocked.

'Of course not, father! I would never harm my siblings.'

'Liar' Trian spit. 'You told me Sigra was planning to murder me and the same thing to her about me!'

'I only mentioned the rumors I heard. I swear I didn't mean any harm to come to any of you!'

Lying would have been obvious in any other case but Bhelen was an excellent actor. The king looked for Frandlin Ivo and asked:

'Does my son have any part in this treachery?'

'Not that I know of' he replied carefully.

'Your majesty' Gorim stepped forward and bowed his head. 'Darkspawn can ambush us if we keep shouting charges in the middle of the Deep Roads. I humbly suggest we move back to Orzammar, where you can decide what to do and whom to hold responsible for this whole situation.'

Sigra watched him with a loving smile. His cut into the conversation stopped the king from any hurried judgment with all due respect.

'Agreed' Endrin said after a moment of hesitation. 'Let's get back to the Diamond Quarter. Anyone who doesn't arrive will be charged with treachery.'

The last sentence was obviously directed to Frandlin Ivo. The man grew pale as death but nodded nonetheless.

'If I may check on these people, father… some of them might still live.' Bhelen looked at the bodies lying around.

Sigra saw Trian shaking his head. She felt glad his brother has the same feeling: Bhelen will most likely dispose of any evidence pointing towards himself, possibly by killing any survivors who stood in his confidence.

'You forget your place' Trian said sharply. 'You are my second and I order you to help me get back safely. Checking corpses isn't a princely task anyway.'

Bhelen bowed himself with a pompous gesture.

'Right as always is my brother. Let me lead the way, then.'

King Endrin waved to his daughter.

'Let me lean on you, my child. The way back is long for an old man like me.'

Well, it was at least a clear hint for Bhelen of where the king's trust lies. More so, as the king, though not being young any more, needed no help to walk from anyone. Sigra still felt an urge to refuse. Walking home without Gorim felt like walking home with one leg. But she didn't object. On the way at least she'll have a chance to speak with her father while Trian keeps an eye on Bhelen. They were the first to step to the tunnel leading back to Orzammar and she didn't dare look behind to Gorim.


	6. Chapter 6

They marched back to the palace surrounded by a cheering crowd. Sigra saw that her father could smile on his people as if there was nothing to worry about, and she envied him for it. Her own smile hurt her like a scar on her face. She could hardly wait to be safely in her quarters, possibly with Gorim, to whom she could speak her mind without pretence.

Harrowmont waited for them in the reception area of the palace. His left leg was bandaged and he limped quite noticeably. Still he seemed relieved that everybody came back in one piece. Curiosity burned in his clever eyes but he asked nothing. He bowed himself before the king, and told him:

'Duncan and the Grey Wardens have arrived, your majesty. They've been given some quarters and are waiting for you to send for them.'

King Endrin nodded.

'How is your leg, Pyral?'

'The cut reaches the bone, my liege, but I'm able to stand and walk.'

'You should have a rest. My daughter will help me out in your absence.'

'You are too kind, your majesty.'

Sigra looked at the elderly lord with sympathy. His wound had to be serious indeed, if his father sent him resting: dwarves usually didn't make a fuss over every scratch and scrape.

Harrowmont returned her gaze and she noticed a similar sympathy in it directed towards herself. She felt a deep gratitude for his compassion and also for not offering it in public. If she would have to choose one person she trusted fully and without hesitation, she would have named Harrowmont right after Gorim. And she couldn't have picked a third one; not even her father.

Harrowmont left slowly. Every step hurt him but he held himself straight. The king didn't waste his time on him: he called two royal guards with a wave of his hand, and ordered:

'You'll bound Frandlin Ivo and throw him into custody. Guard him with your lives. Nobody may talk to him, not even you.'

Frandlin took a step back but Gorim grabbed his arm and the guards bound his hands in a minute's time. Sigra watched Bhelen as Ivo was lead away: the young prince carefully avoided the gaze of his man.

'What about me, father?' he asked.

'You'll help your brother get out of that armor and meet us in the throne room right afterwards. Both of you.' Endrin pointed his finger at Gorim. 'Ser Gorim, I want you to participate as well.'

'As you wish, your majesty.'

'Come, my daughter.'

Sigra obeyed without a word. She accompanied his father to his quarters and helped him get rid of his armor. She, however, didn't part with hers. She felt safer wearing it than any noblewomen's garment.

'What do you think?' asked the king suddenly.

'About Bhelen, father?' She needed to think for a minute. 'I wouldn't risk believing him. Of course, much depends on what Ivo has to say as well but we cannot trust him either. You heard him lying and making false accusations with your own ears.'

'You realize that any proof we might get comes from the mouth of this traitor, don't you?' his father said in a bitter voice. 'Bhelen might be behind all this, as you suspect, as we all suspect. Trian is an honorable man whose words I fully trust and I know you are just as upstanding as him. But even if I find Ivo guilty, there's nothing I can do to my own son without more evidence. I cannot risk reprimanding him if he's innocent indeed.'

'I… know, father. He is my brother anyway. It's just… dangerous to let him go with it. The most dangerous probably for Trian as they are almost always together.'

'Well, at least both of you lives and knows of the threat he poses.'

'Right' Sigra sighed. 'Just look on the bright side. Can you tell me about these guests of yours? The Grey Wardens?'

'You'll get a chance to meet them as soon as we handled this awkward situation.' The king drank a glass of whine. 'Let's go!'

Sigra followed him to the corridor. Somehow it didn't surprise her that her father wasn't heading for the throne room. They walked down to the dungeon, right to Frandlin Ivo's cell.

The dwarf was pale. Surely he assumed he was going to be tortured for the truth. He didn't look like a warrior at all now and Sigra wanted to turn her head away. Had she not been able to look through Bhelen's plot, she could have been dead now or – what could have been even worse – here in this cell, instead of this traitor. But she looked at him coolly. She didn't have the luxury of womanly tenderness. She was a soldier, a king's daughter and a commander to boot. There was no place in her world for weakness – not even in Gorim's loving arms.

It was not the first time she questioned her own choices. As a child, she was educated to be a lady, a potential bride to some noteworthy member of the Assembly, a loving mother of well-behaved children and the keeper of her husband's household. She rebelled against this fate early on, and as the favorite child of King Endrin, she was permitted to choose a different path for herself. She learned to wield a sword; got a manservant to second her and she accepted this new life gladly, without hesitation.

Sometimes she wondered if it had been a wrong decision. She loved this life, being able to protect herself and spending most of her time with the dwarf she held nearest to her heart. Still, it was difficult sometimes to make the hard decisions. She had never been treated as a man but she still had to meet the same requirements as Trian or Bhelen. And while both his brothers could witness a questioning process in the torture chambers, she felt sorry for the victims, even for Ivo now, who wanted to sell her out without a second thought.

Ivo's guards hailed them as they arrived, saluted, and asked:

'Shall we bring the prisoner down for interrogation?'

The king winked with his eyes to his daughter. Sigra took a step closer to the cell's bars.

'What do you think, Frandlin Ivo?' she asked. 'Would you like to be interrogated, or do you consider talking _right now_?'

The man looked both frightened and humble.

'I'll tell you everything I know, Lady Aeducan, but I fear it won't be much.'

'Start talking then. We'll decide whether it's enough for us or not.'

The door burst open in the next moment and Trian rushed into the prison.

'Father, you should have sent for me! I wanted to be here when you questioned this petty worm.'

The King looked angry for a minute.

'Are you really this dumb, son?' he shouted. 'You were the only one to keep an eye on your brother with a good reason!'

'Why, I ordered him to stay in his rooms, of course. He knows better than to disobey me.'

Sigra felt… not hatred, not really, but definitely something similar for her brother. This was one reason that Gorim was right about Trian making a poor future king. He couldn't believe anybody would neglect his royal person or defy him. He may have not trusted Bhelen, but it wasn't enough when he trusted himself too much.

'I'll go check on him, father, if you wish' she chipped in. 'You may interrogate Ivo in the meantime if it doesn't require my assistance.'

The king looked at her with an all-knowing smile.

'You may take your leave, my daughter. Make sure you and your younger brother can meet us in the throne room on time.'

He didn't have to say it twice. Sigra threw another glance towards Ivo and left without saying anything else. She hurried to Bhelen's quarters, hoping she'd find him there.


	7. Chapter 7

She saw Gorim standing in front of the throne room, and though every second could count, she hurried to him and asked him with an official tone:

'Are you wounded, Gorim?'

'No, my lady. Not even a scratch.'

'You have showed your qualities once again.' She surprised him with a warm, loving smile, but her voice stayed cold and formal. 'I'm proud of you, as usual.'

'Thank you, my lady.'

'I'll be back shortly.'

Gorim nodded, and he watched the leaving princess until the corridor's walls blocked his line of sight.

Even after all this time, he sometimes felt a bit guilty for letting her know about his feelings. It was Sigra who asked him about them in a desperate moment, but still he should have lied to her. Loving her was prohibited; he risked his very head by touching her or showing her his tender side. But he held her too dear not to do so.

Sigra was no beauty. If no princess and warrior, she could have looked like an average dwarven girl. Her hair, though long and fair, had no real shine, and she mostly wore them in a pony-tail so that they meant no disadvantage in battle. Even as a dwarven woman, she was considered short and almost fragile. She didn't look lady-like at all, she was a warrior and she behaved like one, but she still had some lost glances, sudden moves and sweet smiles that reminded Gorim of her being a woman. _The_ woman, for him at least. He was a calm man, rather capable of keeping his countenance; it was never an easy matter to read his mind or heart from his eyes. He could keep a certain distance even from his feelings. It was burning love that he felt, but it didn't make him careless. He kept it in mind constantly that it won't ever work out for the two of them to be together, and though it was difficult to do so, he made his lady remember it as well. Whether it hurt him or not, he didn't let slip away. He knew Sigra better than anyone else but she couldn't tell the same thing about him. He took care of it.

Sigra didn't have the possibility to think of him at that moment. She was troubled. Both her intuition and her common sense told her that Bhelen was up to something. It seemed most likely that charging into the dungeon wasn't Trian's own idea at all; that Bhelen tricked his brother into leaving him alone.

She hurried to his quarters and knocked on the door. Once, twice, and when she didn't get any answer, a third time as well.

The door finally opened. Sigra opened her mouth to reprimand her brother but she remained silent, because it was not Bhelen who faced him but an unknown dwarf. The most handsome man she ever saw.

He had a pale skin, intense blue eyes, long, black hair and a small, black beard. He was taller than most dwarven men she knew and almost as muscular as Gorim. He wore his old, rusty armor with a grace Sigra rarely saw. There was only one thing that ruined the perfect image: a huge, black mark on his good-looking face. He was branded as casteless and Sigra couldn't imagine what he was doing in his brother's quarters. He could have easily been a thief or an agent working for Bhelen, but it was strange in both cases that he could get in the palace without drawing any attention.

'Prince Bhelen does not accept visitors at the moment' the man said. Sigra awaited a brutal, uneducated voice from the throat of a casteless but he spoke clearly and his voice matched his appearance. But it wasn't enough to silence someone like her.

'Then you will go and tell my small brother that Commander Sigra Aeducan wishes to speak with him and he'd better come running at once.'

Her voice was as cold as ice but it didn't embarrass the man at the door. He suddenly bowed himself deeply with a mixture of courtesy and taunt.

'At your command, Lady Commander' he said. He closed the door, but it was opened just a minute later by Bhelen himself.

'Big sister, what a surprise! Come on, come in!'

He looked happy, happier than ever. Sigra put her hand on the hilt of her sword and entered.

Bhelen's quarters looked very much like her own, except for the almost too huge bed in which the young prince rarely slept alone. A woman was sitting on the side of it, a red-haired, beautiful casteless girl. She held a baby to her breast and smiled at Sigra with a slight hint of fear in her eyes. The man Sigra spoke to stood next to her; their family resemblance was obvious. The princess turned to her brother.

'Your son?' she asked.

'Aye, he is my son!' Bhelen suddenly hugged her. 'Ansgar is his name. This is his mother, Rica and his uncle, Faren Brosca.'

'Pleased to meet you, your highness' Rica said. Faren bowed again, this time more seriously.

'You are a family man' Sigra doubted her eyes and ears.

'That I am!' Bhelen smiled. 'I just received this good news myself. Father will be thrilled! Did he send me to find you?'

Sigra decided to take part in whatever game Bhelen was playing. Not that she had a choice. She smiled at him and shook her head.

'I didn't want to take part in Ivo's questioning so I offered to come to you myself.'

'My big sister, delicate as a flower, yet feared by darkspawn in all the Deep Roads!' Bhelen said teasingly. Sigra felt Faren Brosca's gaze upon herself and decided to avoid it. There was something about the handsome casteless she didn't like. 'I'm glad you came by. I'll catch up with you soon.'

'Let me see your son first.' Sigra decided that she wouldn't let Bhelen get rid of her as easily as of Trian. 'Babies are so nice, and you are such a good-looking couple with Rica.' She suddenly turned to Faren. 'You'll stay here in the palace, I presume?'

'Along with our mother and uncle, Lady Commander' he replied.

'You should address my sister as _your highness _or _your royal highness_, Faren' Bhelen said in a friendly tone.

'Yes, my prince. Forgive my manners.'

Sigra smiled at Rica who held little Ansgar towards her. She accepted the baby and took him very carefully into her battle-worn hands. The baby didn't wake.

Sigra looked at him for a long time and imagined the feeling of holding her own son. Rica was a lucky woman. If Sigra were to give birth to Gorim's son, even daughter, the consequences would have been disastrous for all three of them; and she never intended to bear any other man's child. She blinked several times to hold back her tears and reached the baby boy back to his mother.

Gorim will of course be a splendid father. Maybe a bit too forgiving to his daughter, if he sires one, but good and consequent. She imagined a faceless, long-haired girl who reaches her hand to him, and bit her lip. Then, suddenly realizing that everybody in the room was watching her, she smiled at the baby again, and started talking about how beautiful he was.

Time passed and she could be satisfied. Neither Bhelen nor the casteless siblings tried to leave the room until king Endrin sent word that he was waiting for them in the throne room.

Bhelen stepped to Rica and held her hand.

'You may stay here, my dear, until I can come back.' His voice was full of tenderness and love, and this once Sigra believed he didn't feign it. 'Faren, you should remain as well and fulfill her wishes. Shall we, big sister?'

Sigra nodded. They left together for the throne room, but once outside, she stayed back at the first chance and stepped to one of the guards posted on the corridor. She could only hope that he wasn't Bhelen's hessian.

'Make sure nobody enters or leaves Prince Bhelen's quarters.'

'Of course, Lady Aeducan.'

Sigra smiled at him and hurried after his brother. It was highest time for Bhelen to hear what Ivo had to say.


	8. Chapter 8

The king, Trian and Gorim were already waiting for them. The heir's face showed disappointment, even anger, so Sigra could find out easily that they didn't have any evidence from the prisoner that pointed towards Bhelen. Gorim stood there with a calm expression, barely looking at his lady.

King Endrin addressed his younger children as they stepped in together.

'Where have you been?'

'Father' Bhelen bent his knee before him. 'I apologize for not coming here at once. I followed Trian's orders to stay in my rooms first, but then I received some good news. You all should be informed that I've sired a son. Little Ansgar is in my quarters with his mother and uncle right now.'

'Some casteless scum, I presume' Trian murmured. Bhelen looked at him with a dignity he rarely showed before.

'You are speaking of my concubine, big brother. They are family to us now. Not that you have sired any children yourself…'

Trian, who hated women in general and hadn't allowed anyone in his bed for decades, stared at him with open hatred. The king had to interrupt:

'It is good news indeed, my son. You'll inform Harrowmont that they are going to live with us from now on. But now I want you to swear that you had nothing to do with the treachery in the Deep Roads and that you haven't left the palace since we arrived back.'

'I swear upon the Ancestors. May the Paragon Aeducan curse me himself if I'm lying.'

Sigra was horrified to hear his brother forswear himself so easily. Trian seemed angrier than ever, but he didn't object. They must have come to an agreement before with the king, the princess realized. She didn't know then, what was going to happen. Dear Ancestors, had she known…

'Very well then. I believe you.' The king smiled upon his youngest child. 'And as a father, you shouldn't be seconding your brother anymore.'

_So they are at least removing him from Trian's service_, Sigra thought. _Good decision. He'll have less ways to move against him from the distance… He should be closely watched, of course, but that won't be my problem._

'Thank you, father. I won't disappoint you.' Bhelen looked like the winner of the day. 'I guess it means both Trian and I will have to choose a new second…'

'I have already chosen mine' Trian said. 'I'll take Gorim.'

Blood froze into Sigra's veins. Gorim seemed also shocked. It clearly showed that he had no idea about this change, but it wasn't his place to object. It was Sigra's place.

'Nonsense. Gorim belongs to me.' She tried to look firm and strong, but she couldn't look at his elder brother's eyes for very long.

'No doubt you'll soon find another warrior to fornicate with' Trian's words were like a slap in the face. 'Gorim's with me and that's final.'

'You have no right…'

'As your elder, I command and you obey, it's simple as that.'

Sigra looked at his father for help. Endrin seemed to be embarrassed.

'I'm sorry, my daughter. It's well within your brother's rights.'

'I should have killed you, Trian' Sigra whispered.

The heir turned away from her with an arrogant smile.

'Gorim, go and fetch your belongings. I expect you to come to my quarters within an hour. And you are strictly forbidden to touch my sister once again. It's your head if you disobey.'

'Aye, my lord.' Gorim's face was like stone but it was not only Sigra who could still read it. There was no use in denying anything: their relationship was written in their eyes. They were fools to ever think they could deceive anyone.

Gorim left an awkward silence after himself. Sigra looked at the door where he left and considered running after him, no matter what. But she was a soldier who knew obedience, so she remained still.

'Looks like it's us in need, then' Bhelen winked to her with his eye. 'For me, it's a sudden thing, so I'd like to consider the person of my second… unless you have some advice for me, father.'

'You both are free to choose your men' the king said. He could not look at his daughter.

'If you'll excuse me then, father, my family is waiting for me.'

'You are dismissed, Bhelen.'

'I have to go, too.' Trian left without saying goodbye. Sigra remained there with their father.

'So it was true all along…' the king sighed.

'You mean Bhelen, father?' she had to ask.

'I mean you and Gorim.'

'Gorim is a knight!' Sigra burst out. 'Bhelen just brought a whole family of casteless into the palace, and everybody's full of joy!'

'Knight or not, Gorim is a man. If Bhelen's new concubine had given birth to a daughter, we wouldn't have even heard of her. But if you'd get pregnant and have a son, belonging to the warrior caste just like his father – what would you do, my daughter? Ask Gorim to search for a new mother for him?'

There was no good answer to that question. Sigra felt tears in her eyes.

'I shouldn't have said anything about Bhelen's plan' she said. 'He is a hero now, Trian took Gorim away from me, and I lost everything.'

'Don't forget the shield you recovered, commander. You are the hero of the day. Try to find satisfaction in it. It might be a great resolve.'

_He is right. I'm not just a hurt little girl. And even if I feel like one, it's my own business._ Sigra squared her shoulders.

'Very well, father. May I ask what you have heard from Frandlin Ivo?

'Several names. I've sent the guards for those people but all of them died before they could have been brought into the dungeons.'

'So that's why you asked if Bhelen left his quarters…'

'Yes, but it seems he could have no part in it.'

'He might have sent word…' Sigra remembered Faren Brosca. He could have delivered a message. 'Or he planned to silence these people long ago.'

The king nodded.

'I know. I also know he forswore himself before me and the Ancestors. He'll be watched. He won't get a second chance to hurt you or Trian. And he'll be quite busy with his new family anyway…'

Sigra had her doubts, but she didn't speak them. Part of her wished Bhelen hurt Trian where it pained him the most.

'May I leave now?'

'You may.'

'_Atrast nal tunsha, father._'

'_Atrast nal tunsha._'

Sigra left as fast as she could. She hoped to catch Gorim while packing his belongings. They indeed met in one of the corridors; Gorim was pale as death, but he didn't avoid her gaze.

'Gorim…'

Gorim looked around but there were no guards in their line of sight. He stopped and held her hand.

'I'm so sorry, my heart' he murmured. 'I doubt we'll get a chance to talk too often. Your brother will take care of it.'

'I won't put up with losing you, Gorim. I won't.'

'Nor will I, my heart. But there is little we can do now.'

They heard footsteps and Gorim let go of her hand.

'We cannot be seen like this. Neither now, nor anytime. But don't forget that I love you, my lady. And I always will.'

He left without waiting for her response. Sigra stood there and felt a pain that was almost too much to bear. But then determination started to shine from her eyes, making her almost beautiful. She'll keep her promise and won't accept losing Gorim – either as a second or as the man she loved. She will fight for him, for themselves. They just lost a battle, their very first one for their love… but it was only the beginning of the war she intended to win.


	9. Chapter 9

This new purpose however did not make anything easier. Both her brothers betrayed her in different ways. Being humiliated by Trian was even harder to forgive than Bhelen's plot for the crown. However, she did not want revenge. She wanted Gorim back and nothing else mattered.

She walked away from the emptied corridor, heading back to her quarters. There was no need for a hurry. She forced a smile upon her lips as the guards on the floor greeted her. It was her great day, after all. Recovering that thousand-times-cursed shield made her a commander of the army with full rights. These good people celebrated having her among themselves. She was their hero, though it mattered less than nothing to her right then.

A few minutes later she noticed a tall, dark-skinned human in one of the corridors. The man looked lost, but then he saw her and a vague smile appeared on his lips. He bowed himself and addressed her:

'I beg your pardon, my lady, may I humbly ask for your help?'

Sigra looked at the man. Humans were not a common sight in Orzammar. She did not find him frightening, though he clearly was a great warrior. She assumed that he might be the leader of the Grey Wardens.

'Do I know you?' she asked. She was in no mood to help anyone.

The man smiled.

'You do, my lady Aeducan, though it's no wonder you don't remember. My name is Duncan. I've seen you back when you were but a small girl. I hear you've become quite the warrior since then.'

'Well, pleased to meet you, Duncan.'

'Indeed?' his smile widened, though he must have spoken with irony. 'This is good to hear. Will you allow me to bore you with a little inconvenience of mine?'

'Sure.' Sigra couldn't even imagine what the Grey Warden wants with her but it was good to have something else to think about than her own problems.

'Thank you, my lady Aeducan. The thing is, I'm looking for a prisoner named Frandlin Ivo but I cannot find my way to the dungeon.'

'What do you want with that traitor?'

She was surprised that Duncan could still smile.

'I plan to afford him a place among us Grey Wardens.'

Sigra bit her lip. She could not believe that after her brothers Ivo was going to escape punishment as well.

'Has my father given you permission?'

'With all due respect, my lady Aeducan, we don't need his majesty's authorization. I called upon the Right of Conscription. It allows the Grey Wardens to draft anyone into our ranks. Kings, criminals, traitors… and there is no place for objection.'

'I always thought you Wardens were noble warriors protecting your Ferelden.'

'Most of us are, my lady. But our need is growing and our numbers are too few. A Blight is coming. We came here to make new recruits.'

Sigra did not care for an upcoming Blight. She knew she should have, but the problems of the humans' world could not touch her broken heart.

'And among so many noble warriors, you have chosen Frandlin Ivo' she said with disdain.

'The man is doomed anyway.' Duncan's patience seemed to be unlimited. More so, he obviously enjoyed the conversation. 'I got word that he would be sent to the surface as an exile. I will give him a chance to regain his honor and find a cause to die for. Not that he has a choice. However, I can guarantee that he won't live a long and peaceful life if he joins us.'

Sigra considered for a second what she heard and nodded. Being exiled to the surface was considered almost worse than death, after all.

'Follow me.'

They went down to the dungeon together. Duncan did not cease to talk.

'I hear you are quite the fighter yourself. Your father says that you are the quickest warrior in House Aeducan.'

'That's right, I guess, although both my brothers can wield a sword if necessary. Actually, I think, Trian prefers a mace or a maul…' Her voice died away as she remembered Trian who took her lover from her. Duncan noticed it and stopped.

'May I help you in any way, my lady Aeducan?'

She forced a bitter smile upon herself.

'Not unless you can use that Right of Conscription of yours to make a Grey Warden of Trian.'

'I'm afraid your royal father would not be thrilled by the idea of letting go of his heir. And if I wanted to make him angry, I would pick you, not your brother.'

'Me?' Sigra felt an icy hand around her heart. Leaving Orzammar, heading for the surface, to stand and fight with humans and elves in the burning sunlight, it all frightened her. As a child, she feared the common dwarven superstition of falling up to the sky. She did not believe in it any more but the thought of the upper world still upset her. She knew however that the Grey Warden meant no disrespect; he simply held her for the best he could have had. 'I guess I should take it as a compliment.'

The Warden laughed heartily.

'That you should, my lady Aeducan. I'm not thrilled by the idea of having to be satisfied with our friend here…' He suddenly subsided into silence as they approached Ivo's cell. Sigra stepped forward, only to back away when she saw what made Duncan shut up.

Frandlin Ivo was dead. He hung from the ceiling of his cell. It appeared that fear from the surface life drove him to commit suicide but Sigra had her own suspicions.

'Guards!' she yelled.

'Aye, commander?' Two men ran to her at once.

'What happened here?'

The guards peered inside. They both looked astonished. Sigra believed that they had nothing to do with it – that they didn't even notice anything.

'Did anyone come down here after my father and brother left?'

'Negative, commander. We've been here all the time.'

'I believe you.' The princess sent them a calming smile. 'Now go and fetch ser Go… I mean your captain.' She turned to Duncan. 'May I ask you to remain here until I inform my father?'

'Of course, my lady Aeducan.' The Grey Warden bowed.

'Thank you.' Sigra smiled at him, hoping it would ease the pain she felt when she instinctively mentioned Gorim as if he had still been her second. Then she hurried back to the throne room, which she found empty. She was informed that her father left for Harrowmont's estate and decided to follow him.

Dulin Forender, Lord Harrowmont's Steward was thrilled to meet her. He congratulated her on finding the Shield of Aeducan and saw her to Harrowmont's bedroom at once. She entered just to find the lord and her father sitting in two chairs like old friends and talking.

'Sorry to interrupt your conversation' she said. 'Frandlin Ivo is dead, father. It's most likely he hung himself but I haven't ruled out foul play yet. I just wanted to inform you at once.' She waited a few seconds and added: 'Duncan is guarding the body.'

'Well done, my daughter.' The king rose from his chair. 'I'm sorry, Pyral, but duty calls.'

'I'm ashamed I cannot accompany you, my liege.' Harrowmont's voice was formal as usual but there was something in his eyes as he looked at Sigra. She thought at first that it might be jealousy but then she identified it as disappointment. No doubt her father told him about everything that happened in the throne room and being always conservative and a supporter of stiffening the caste system even further, he must be shocked by the revelation of her relationship with the lower-born knight. His disapproval was clearly visible and Sigra could not look in his eyes. She realized that she lost the other man she could have placed her trust in just now.


	10. Chapter 10

She walked back to the palace in a bad mood. She decided not to take part in any investigation about Frandlin Ivo's death unless her father directly orders her to do so. She returned to her quarters. They felt terribly empty without Gorim's presence but it was something she couldn't do anything about. At least not at that very moment.

She sat down and looked at the wall. Tiredness ambushed her and it was her soul, not her body that wanted to give in. She didn't even move to lay down her armor and weapons. Time passed without her noticing it.

So, she needed a new second. There would be many candidates once the word got out and it was something she wanted to avoid. The less fuss over the whole thing, the better. She decided therefore to choose someone fast; though it was a very important decision, she didn't believe for a minute that she could possibly choose anyone just half as good as Gorim. Thus, she did not really care who would aid her in her life, battles and everything. It would not be Gorim so it could be anybody.

Adal Helmi might be a good choice… Alternatively, should she look for one of her cousins? There were some fine warriors among them. She always thought that when Bhelen's time would come to have full rights, Trian would choose from them. Not that she was surprised about the heir's choice. Gorim was worth far more than any noble-born second.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. She opened it only to find an unknown casteless outside – she supposed he belonged to Bhelen's new family as well – who bent his knee the moment he saw her.

'I greet you, your royal highness' he began. 'My name is Beraht; I'm Prince Bhelen's second. My lord wishes to have a word with your ladyship, if you permit it.'

_A second? Bhelen was surely quick to choose one._ Sigra watched the man with disdain. He looked like a wealthy merchant, but there was a certain gleam in his eyes that gave Sigra the impression that she stands face to face with a crime lord. He didn't bear any resemblance to either Rica or Faren, though he had to be either a close relative or doing Bhelen's dirty work in Dust Town. Bhelen was no great friend of casteless, after all. Nobody was.

Beraht's way of speaking was unimpeachable; still there was something disturbing about it. Sigra felt the same way when she met Faren Brosca, however, this time her disapproval of the man was a thousand times stronger.

'I'm not sure I want to talk to my brother at all' she replied. She didn't want to have anything to do with Bhelen and she knew that if people saw her entering his quarters, or him hers, they would start talking at once. She was sure that the ever-paranoid Trian would believe they were plotting against him together now.

'I beg you, your royal highness.' It was hard for Beraht to speak in such a humble way. Though bowing his head, as he should have, his eyes still betrayed his true feelings. 'My lord doesn't want to chit-chat, I can assure you. He has a serious request in your benefit that he'd like to share with you.'

_Any request coming from Bhelen must be a trap_. Sigra still remembered the time she used to play together with her younger brother. Bhelen was quite an impostor back then and she had known better than to trust him ever since. Suddenly, she got very angry with him. _He just came through with his betrayal and he's up to something at once. Maybe it's time I act like Trian did and slap him myself, too._ She nodded to Beraht.

'Tell him to come alone.'

'At once, your highness.' The brand new second beat a retreat.

Sigra closed the door and leaned against it. She decided not to change her armor just yet. She didn't really believe that Bhelen would move against her so soon but she couldn't be cautious enough with him around.

It only took several minutes for Bhelen to arrive.

'Atrast vala, big sister. Pardon me if Beraht insisted too violently of you seeing me. I'd like to help you out so bad, that's all it is about.'

Sigra poured a glass of wine to herself and eyed her brother up and down.

'Bhelen, you must think I'm royally stupid. You just tried to have me killed today.'

'Not you. Trian? Yes, of course. But never you.'

'You are quick to admit it after denying everything in front of our father. What are you up to?'

Bhelen smiled sadly, just like someone who is used to being framed for everything despite his good will and noble heart.

'I did not make any false wows' he said. 'Honestly. I was hoping you'd kill Trian and be my queen, when time comes. I might have said certain things to assure it. But I know nothing about Ivo and the scout.'

'I don't believe you. Moreover, I won't kill Trian. He is our brother, lest you have forgotten.'

'He is a bully and would become a tyrant if permitted. A bad one. Don't you see it's in Orzammar's best interest to have him moved out of the way?'

Sigra shook her head.

'I'm not taking part in any plot against father's legitimate heir.'

'Stay calm then, for I'm not here to plot anything. As I said before, I'd like to help you out.'

'What do you mean?'

'Oh, so distrustful!' Bhelen laughed. 'I understand and accept it from you, though. The loss of the good ser Gorim must be very painful for you.'

'What do you know about pain?' She had to turn away. She didn't want to let Bhelen see the feelings written on her face.

'Remember Rica?' the prince asked quietly. 'My consort. I know exactly what you feel for Gorim. Actually, more people do than you'd think.'

Sigra opened her mouth in astonishment. Could it be? Could Bhelen really be in love with Rica? However, before she could have asked him, he continued talking.

'Anyway, this isn't what I wanted to talk about. I have a splendid idea for your new second. I'd be glad if you'd choose Faren.'

Well, this was quite the surprise. Sigra shook her head at once.

'I don't even know him.'

'Oh, he sure has his qualities. Learned to fight as a child, he did. He has a bit of a shady past, though. Nothing serious, some burglary, vandalism, theft and things like that. Life is hard in Dust Town, after all.'

He laughed seeing his sister's face.

'I know, I know! He is no knight like your precious ser Gorim. But he wants to leave his previous life behind. You could help him do that.'

It was a mad idea. Maybe even dangerous, concerning the dwarf's past and Bhelen's tendency to conspiracy. Sigra knew that she should refuse; her deepest instinct told her not to trust either Bhelen or his casteless lackey. However, she could only smile thinking about it.

All her life, she had been doing what was right. As a child, as a woman, as a princess and also as a commander. She tried her best to make the right decisions in the last two days as well, and she still lost everything she cherished, while the guilty got away. She was totally fed up with being the good girl, making clever choices and sacrificing what she held dear.

She looked at Bhelen again, and spoke in a clear, strong voice:

'Maybe I'm mad. Maybe losing Gorim drove me crazy. I don't trust you, little brother, nor will I any time in my life. I don't know what you are planning and I don't care either. But you might send this almost-brother-in-law of yours to me, if it pleases you. I'll have a talk with him and consider your offer.'

'Many thanks, big sister. You won't regret it, I promise.' Bhelen bowed with a hint of mixed taunt and love. 'And someday you'll come to trust me again. I'm looking forward to that day.'


	11. Chapter 11

Sigra had a bad night. She awoke almost every hour, looking for Gorim, feeling an emptiness she never knew before. She decided to get up quite early. Though having not eaten anything for dinner the previous night, she missed breakfast and sent word with one of the guards to Bhelen's quarters that she was up and dressed, waiting for the man they had been talking about the day before.

It took almost two hours for Faren Brosca to arrive but it neither surprised nor annoyed Sigra. She was sure that Bhelen slept long and it delayed her message; anyway, and it didn't really matter. She had no plans for the day, other than choosing her new second.

'May I come in, your ladyship?' The handsome casteless seemed to hesitate for a moment. Sigra nodded. She sat down and left the man standing. Brosca did not object. Bhelen surely told him how to behave.

There was silence for a couple of minutes. He waited patiently until the princess decided to speak.

'My brother recommended you to me, Brosca. I need a new second and Bhelen thinks you could be it. Are you up to the task?'

'May I speak my mind, your highness?'

The princess was surprised by the answer but she didn't show it.

'That is why you are here' she replied.

'Allow me to be blunt, then' the casteless said. 'It completely depends on what you want me to do.'

Sigra frowned.

'Hasn't my brother told you about a second's duties?'

'He has in fact, your highness. But there are certain rumors about my predecessor which throw a new light on this task.'

Sigra felt sweat covering her palms. Anger darkened her eyes. How dares he!

'Leave Gorim out of it, Brosca!'

'Gladly' the man seemed calm, which made her even angrier. 'This is what it takes, actually.'

'What the hell are you talking about?'

The casteless drew himself up.

'I'm sorry if I'm going to hurt your pride, ladyship' he said. 'But your kind usually thinks badly about mine, if you take the trouble of thinking about us at all. Moreover, my sister is your brother's consort. Somehow, I doubt you hold the so-called noble-hunters in high esteem, although you should know that most of them simply have no choice. Rica didn't have either.' He drew a deep breath. 'I'm different, though.'

'That so?' Sigra still didn't understand him.

'That so, your highness. And that is something I want to make clear.' He looked right into her eyes and Sigra could not help noticing how incredibly beautiful his eyes were. 'I am no prostitute, my lady. If you need a strong arm that can wield a weapon or a person to forward your orders, then my answer is yes, I can do it. But I'm not going to bed you like that knight did. If you want a lover, you'll have to find someone else.'

Sigra hated him at that moment, but her anger didn't move him. He stared at her with his bright, hones eyes and waited for an answer. It was lese-majesty what he just said and he had to know it, yet he spoke his mind. In a strange way, Sigra could appreciate him for that. Her reply sounded surprisingly gentle:

'Your predecessor, as you called him… Ser Gorim Saelac, as you should have, is the love of my life. Nobody knows that and it doesn't matter now, when we are parted, if you do. I'm not the kind of woman which uses men for her own pleasure, no matter their looks. Not to mention that I find him a thousand times more attractive than you.'

'This is something I did not know about the two of you' the casteless bent his knee. 'I apologize if my words were ill chosen, your highness. I did not want to hurt your feelings.'

Sigra surprised him and even herself with a vague smile.

'Honesty is a value, especially in a second' she said. 'So tell me about your training, Faren.'

The dwarf grinned.

'There was no regular training I can tell you about. I grew up on the streets of Dust Town. You must know how to wield a sword there or you'll end up sitting in the dirt as a beggar.'

'Speaking of Dust Town, Bhelen mentioned something about you having a shady past.'

Faren sighed.

'I won't deny it, your highness. I couldn't even if I wanted to. Everybody knows that I was under the thumb of a certain crime lord along with Rica. But I found no pleasure in that life.' He looked in the other way; his voice became filled with gratitude. 'Your brother is a good man, your highness. He offered me the chance of a fresh start.'

_Of course. A second in my service, whose loyalties lie with my little brother, is invaluable for him._ Sigra was wise enough to know it, but also not to speak it. She listened to Faren sympathetically. _I'll have to be careful if I want to get him out of Bhelen's claws_, she thought, not noticing that she already had decided to take the man as her second.

'He treats my sister as a lady' the casteless continued. 'Seems like he really loves her.' He chuckled. 'Funny, isn't it? You and that… er, I mean ser Gorim Saelac and your brother with a Dust Town girl. I bet the heir looks down on both of you.'

_He's not only honest, but clever as well. _Sigra nodded in agreement.

'I think I like you, Faren.' She stood up. 'I'll accept you as a second if you can accept me as your lady. But I have to warn you: the Diamond Quarter is a different kind of place from what you are used to. We draw weapons pretty seldom, but everyone is tangled in the web of politics. Don't become my right hand if your loyalties lie elsewhere. There might be a situation when you have to choose to sacrifice your sister in order to rescue me.'

Faren nodded.

'That sounds sane.'

'I'll need your oath of loyalty then. If you break your vow, you won't be able to hide from the revenge of the Assembly even in the Deep Roads. High treason is punishable by death or worse. You must be devoted and honorable in order to make a good second.' She hesitated. 'Let me know if you need some time to think this through.'

'I've been thinking about it the whole night, your ladyship. I accept the job with all its difficulties, and I thank you for your trust.'

The princess nodded.

'To work, then. I'm going to inform my father that my decision has been reached. You'll take your vows as soon as possible.'

'Aye, my lady.'

'You may go. You'll be informed when you're needed.'

The man bowed himself and headed for the door. Sigra sighed a little and called him back.

'Faren!'

'My lady?'

'A second's task is normally a full-life service. Your case is different, though. I intend to get Gorim back. But know that if you prove yourself faithful, I will find a way to pay back my debt of gratitude.'

The smile disappeared from Faren's face. He touched his own face.

'Can you make this brand disappear?' he asked in a bitter voice.

'I just might be.' Sigra did not show her surprise. 'Don't forget that I'm a commander of my father's armies.'

'I'm not from warrior caste. And I don't intend to join the Legion of the Dead, either.' He smiled with a strange, crooked smile. 'But do you know what, my lady? Let me prove that I'm the better second and let the good ser knight join your army, if I do. Thoughts for later, I suppose. I'd like to take my leave now, if you'll excuse me…'

Sigra looked at the door for a long time after he was gone. She wasn't able to decide whether she gained a worthy second, a dangerous spy or just hurt him by telling him the truth. But a smile sat upon her lips nonetheless.

This was going to be interesting.


	12. Chapter 12

Two weeks passed in silence. These were the worst fourteen days of Gorim Saelac's life.

When nobody was listening, he and Sigra often joked about poor Bhelen seconding that born-to-be-an-oppressor Trian. They made up errands the heir might give to his younger brother and had a good laugh over them. Now, seconding Trian he found it worse than they had ever imagined.

The tasks were not at all different from what he was already used to. As he had served Sigra – making her day-to-day life running without annoyance, organizing her programs and being there all the time, in case she needed something – so was he seconding her brother as well. In theory, at least.

His role changed completely all the same. For Sigra, he had been a respected companion, a valuable assist and the man she loved dearly. Trian however treated him like a servant. His very words could humiliate Gorim for not finding out his thoughts at once; he punished him for loving his sister with constant distrust, oblique, mocking words and making two bites at a cherry all the time. He never forgot to state how much better the noble-born Bhelen seconded him, and if Gorim dared to mention Bhelen's treachery, Trian shortly commanded him to shut up. The knight felt constantly like a child, being checked, controlled, scolded and taunted all the time.

Still he did his duties without a word of complaint; only the shining disappeared from his bright blue eyes. There was a possibility that Trian was only waiting for him to fail. He could not know that while the prince despised him as a person, in some kind of twisted form, he thought high of the knight's qualities, and despite everything he said, he found Gorim a much better second than Bhelen. He could simply not forgive him being from a lower caste.

Being treated like muck didn't really upset Gorim, though. His stoicism helped him a great deal to endure Trian's loathing. It was much worse to see Sigra from time to time; and though he had two weeks to think, he still couldn't decide if it hurt him more to see her in public, escorted by her new casteless second, or meeting her by coincidence in one of the forlorn corridors. He avoided her gaze in both cases. In one hand, it was much easier to keep his distance that way, and on the other hand, he didn't intend to give Trian a cause to reprimand him. It must have hurt her deeply, he knew, but it was the best for both of them. Even so, if Trian gave him an order that allowed him to get out of the Diamond Quarter, or evenings, when his new lord was sleeping, Gorim sometimes went out to the Proving Grounds, remembering the times they spent there with Sigra.

'Ser knight.'

The voice came from behind. Gorim turned. The leader of the Grey Wardens stood there, watching him with a sympathetic visage.

'Warden… Duncan, if I'm not mistaken.'

'That's right.'

'How may I be of assistance?'

Gorim found little curiosity in his heart towards the humans, who had still been lingering in the palace, spending a great deal of their time with the king and looking for dwarven recruits everywhere in Orzammar. In happier times, he would have talked about them with his lady, but Trian showed no interest in anything outside the gates of the Diamond Quarter, and Gorim himself wasn't fond of surfacers either. He looked at the man now with a slight confusion.

'I'd just like to… talk for a while.'

'Sure.' The knight turned away. 'Take your time, ser Duncan.'

'Please, it's just Duncan. We, Wardens do not really care for titles.'

'Duncan, then. You wanted to talk.'

Duncan stood next to him and asked without looking at him:

'Are you happy with your life, ser knight?'

Gorim laughed. It was a bitter, painful laugh, the muscles in his face ached from it. He didn't even wear a smile after he was separated from Sigra.

'Look at me, Warden! I'm the second of the next king. A few years and there won't be a mightier dwarf in Orzammar. Quite good for a simple warrior like me, huh?'

Duncan remained serious.

'You don't seem the ambitious type to me.'

'Perhaps you are mistaken.'

'Perhaps. But _perhaps_ you are only dodging my question. I am told to be a good judge of character, after all.'

Gorim frowned.

'I don't care what you or anyone else thinks about me, Warden.'

'Maybe you should. Especially now, when your people are still talking about your romance with the princess. I've heard the story even in Dust Town.'

The dwarf turned back to him. Anger shone from his eyes. For a moment, he nearly drew his sword; but then his self-control returned. In a cold voice, he replied:

'I don't see how it's any goddamn business of yours, human.'

Duncan bowed his head.

'I apologize for my manners, if I hurt your privacy. Love is a thing to respect… though unrequited love weakens a man. It is fighting in battles that makes us strong.'

'Now I get it' Gorim said ironically. 'You are trying to recruit me, aren't you? Don't push it, Warden. I swore an oath of loyalty. Two, in fact. Both bound me to the Aeducans.'

'Aren't your two vows contradicting each other?' Duncan asked almost gently.

Gorim sighed.

'Not yet.'

'The time might come for you to choose between your oaths, you know…'

'Well' he smiled to himself, 'I just might join your order afterwards.'

'And now you are making fun of me' the Warden stated. 'Very well, ser knight. My companions are leaving shortly, but I'll stay in Orzammar until the next Proving. All you need to do is come to me and say that you have changed your mind. _Atrast nal tunsha_.'

Gorim heard his footsteps fading away in the distance, yet he didn't move. Not a full minute passed until he heard:

'He was trying to help, you know.'

'Best way to help me would be recruiting that bastard Trian' he murmured. Then he jumped high in aghast. 'My lady! I… didn't see you standing there.'

Sigra came forward from the shadows. A sad smile sat on her lips.

'We are on our own' she said. 'Don't flee from me again, Gorim.'

Gorim's heart was filled with joy. Looking at her, listening to her words, feeling her presence… it was madness, a dangerous, careless thing to do, but it felt better than anything he could imagine. He still answered in a rational manner.

'It is in your best interest that I'm trying to avoid you, my lady. Folks gossip about us, and your brother never gets tired of watching me.'

'Just give me a moment. Please.'

Gorim bent his knee.

'I am honored to serve you, my lady.'

Sigra bit her lip.

'Don't do this, Gorim. We belong together. Don't act like any knight around me.'

'With all due respect, my lady… I am seconding your brother now. There is neither time, nor place for what you wish.'

'What _I _wish?'

The disappointment in her voice broke his heart.

'You know my heart hasn't changed. But we must face reality.'

'All right.' Sigra watched him. She felt an urge to kiss him, but she knew he would not allow her to do so. 'Let's face reality. Let's face it together.'

'There is no together for us, my lady. We always knew it.'

'You are mistaken. We do have a choice. You just heard it with your own ears.'

The man seemed confused.

'I beg your pardon, my lady…?'

'The Warden, Duncan invited you to join their ranks. I have been thinking for two weeks now. Let's join them now, both of us. Let's have our future. Together.'

It was a terrifying thought, but alluring as well. Gorim closed his eyes. He saw themselves in the burning sunlight, fighting alongside humans and elves, without the chance to return to Orzammar any time. But he also saw themselves getting married, having a child, dying in the same battle while holding hands… He was longing to agree. He would have sacrificed everything he had just to be with her. It was hard to answer firmly, in a voice as sharp as his sword's blade:

'I cannot do that to you, my lady. This is not the fate you deserve.'

'Don't I deserve to be with you?' Sigra asked with a small smile.

'You deserve everything I can imagine and even more, my lady. But let me ask you something. Is this the first time that you meet Grey Wardens?'

She shook her head.

'Exactly.' The knight replied. 'From time to time, they come to Orzammar, and disappear in the Deep Roads. They don't tell their purpose to anybody, but death sits in their eyes.' Gorim took a step closer to her, and gently touched her hair. 'They are young men, my lady, unwounded, unharmed, and able to fight. Even if they are sorted out, they could manage a normal life on the surface. I don't know why they keep seeking out death, and I don't care either. But I don't want to see you stepping through those gates with that gleam in your beautiful eyes, my lady. I cannot let that happen.'

The princess sighed.

'So what now?' she asked. 'You'll keep pretending we don't even know each other, won't you?'

'Only to protect you, my lady.'

'I don't need your protection, Gorim. I can protect myself quite well. I need your love.'

'That belongs to you, my dearest one. Even if it's forbidden for us.'

Sigra wanted to say something, but Gorim shook his head and stepped away from her.

'Somebody's coming' he whispered.


	13. Chapter 13

Sigra heard the footsteps, but they didn't surprise her. She came to recognize them in the last two weeks.

'It's just Faren' she said calmingly.

Gorim frowned, but he didn't make any comment.

Faren Brosca wasn't surprised to see them together, still, his glance reflected no love, as he looked Gorim up and down.

Seconding a noble-born was more than he could have hoped for, when he was bullying beggars or merchants in the dirt of Dust Town. In fact, he didn't even know that there were seconds to serve the members of the royal family. He cherished his sister Rica, and kept looking for a way to prevent her from becoming a whore. Fate however was generous to them. Rica got pregnant from a nobleman and gave life to his son – and then he found out that the father was the youngest Aeducan prince himself. They soon were invited to the palace; Prince Bhelen treated them as valued family members and mentioned his name to the princess, who decided to employ him. His way led from the muck directly to the highest peak, all too sudden, but he enjoyed this new life nonetheless. Still, he never ceased to fear Sigra's words about getting Gorim back. Life in Dust Town wasn't that long ago, anyway, that he could have forgotten not to trust anybody wearing a lord's shiny armor. Gorim's return meant the end of this kind of life for sure, and he liked it too much already just to shrug his shoulder about it. He wanted to stay Sigra's second a life long.

Not that it was easy. He needed to confront himself constantly with soldiers, merchants and aristocrats, to whom the brand on his handsome face revealed his casteless standing. People talked down to him first. Later on, they started to accept his position but the heard rumors about a fiery dispute in the Assembly concerning Beraht and himself, the two casteless seconds. Even the king asked her daughter to change her mind and Sigra assured him that she'd be most happy to oblige, once Trian sent Gorim back to her. Still, it was a good life. Too good to be ended by somebody like this knight, who was foolish enough to play by the rules and carry out everything the nobles told him.

Gorim returned his gaze with open mistrust and jealousy. He envied Faren like no one else in his life. Of course, he didn't see him as a rival. Though Faren was a good ten years younger and so good-looking that the noblewomen in the Diamond Quarter already gossiped about him, Gorim knew he was not the kind of man Sigra fancied. Her latest words also proved that her feelings haven't diminished. The knight still couldn't help being jealous of every moment Faren spent with Sigra, because those moments were robbed from _him_. He would have felt the same way towards anyone, including Adal Helmi or even Harrowmont. Additionally, he couldn't trust a casteless scum, who had been a thug not so long before. He couldn't imagine why Sigra chose him, if not to have a spy in Bhelen's bedroom, but he doubted that Bhelen shared his secrets with his consort, and also that the consort would have dared to betray his confidentiality.

Sigra noticed how they were looking at each other but she decided to ignore it. She came to like Faren. In a way, the dwarf served as a perfect second. It was not the manservant she missed in him but Gorim's personality. They didn't laugh the same way, didn't move like one another, and damn it, she didn't love Faren the way she loved Gorim.

The moment passed. Faren bowed to her deeply and began to speak:

'Sorry to interrupt, my lady. Prince Bhelen sends his regards and kindly asks you to meet him in his quarters.'

'Excuse me, boy' Gorim disrupted 'but are you Prince Bhelen's second?'

Faren frowned.

'I just met his second, Beraht. He's been looking for my lady for almost an hour. By the way, ser knight, it seems to me that you aren't staying with _your lord_ either.'

'Enough of this' Sigra said. 'Did Beraht tell you what Bhelen wanted, Faren?'

He shook his head.

'Well, I suppose I'll have to ask my brother, then. Let's go.' Sigra looked at Gorim for a last time with a small, sad smile. 'I do hope we'll talk again soon, Gorim.'

'As you wish, Lady Aeducan' the knight replied ceremoniously. He knew he caused pain to the princess with his unimpassioned words but he didn't dare to be less formal in front of his successor.

Bhelen waited for his sister in the most elegant room of his quarters. He honored Faren with a brotherly smile Sigra never saw on his face. She doubted its honesty but Faren seemed rather happy so she bit her lip and said nothing. From the next room, they could hear Rica singing to her baby.

'My beloved is eager to meet you, my friend' Bhelen showed the way with a small movement of his hand. 'Would you mind sitting with me, my sister?'

Sigra wasn't sure what to answer. They talked twice after accepting Faren as her second, both times very briefly. The prince offered his gratitude both times to Sigra for helping his consort's brother in starting a new life; yet he made Sigra remember – very, very gently – that it was him she had to thank for the man's services. The princess had a guess about why he needed her now: he wanted to tell her, what he required from her in return.

'You know I still don't trust you' she began but she sat nonetheless, as was asked.

'Don't hurt me, big sister, I beg you' Bhelen kept smiling. 'Mind if I ask you something?'

'Go on.'

Bhelen lowered his voice.

'Has the good ser Gorim refused your offer to run away together yet?' he whispered.

'What?' Sigra gasped. 'How did you find out?'

'With pure logic, I must say. I in your place would have asked that man… what was his name? Duncan, I think. So, I would have asked this Duncan to take away both of us. Surfacer dwarves usually don't even know of the existence of our _beloved_ caste system.'

'You are not in my place' she said enthusiastically. 'You won't ever be. You are a man, free to choose your lovers. I, however, would put our royal family to shame in front of the Assembly and the Ancestors themselves by giving birth to a knight's bastard… as our father so kindly pointed out.'

Bhelen sighed.

'Trust me, big sister, I fully understand. Even I am not able to give my concubine the place she deserves. Rica has a good heart and she faced a lot of suffering in her life. Still, most people in the royal court treat her like dirt. One day she'll actually realize it and her heart will break. I am not going to witness it and do nothing.'

'Very touching.' Sigra's voice was dry.

'It must be, as you and I face the same problem. However, your situation is much worse. This is why I wanted to talk to you in the first place. I think we can help each other.'

'I don't think so…'

The prince lifted his hand.

'Please! Just let me finish.'

Sigra nodded, though a part of her wanted to stand up and go away. But she still could see the apathy in Gorim's eyes and hear his refusal. She wanted him badly enough to at least listen to what her brother had to say.

'I won't keep you in darkness of my motives, nor am I going to lie to you.' Bhelen leaned forward in his chair. 'Help me become king, big sister and I'll give you the possibility of marrying Gorim.'

Sigra jumped to her feet.

'I've heard enough.'

'Oh no, you haven't. I intend to destroy the castes and integrate the casteless into our society. Times change, and so must we.'

'I'm not going to sit here and listen to treason. Trian is father's heir. If you want to become king, you should go to the Deep Roads and conquer your own kingdom!'

'Do calm down, big sis!' Bhelen laughed. 'Would you _really _like to live under Trian's rule? If so, then you are the only one.'

'I want no part in your murderous plans.'

'It pains me you doubt my intentions. Very well, I'll swear to you, if you want me to, that I'm not going to harm Trian. No more than taking the throne he wants to sit on from him.'

'I don't believe you.' Sigra became more and more angry. 'Last time you tried to use me as your weapon against him.'

'I have already told you that it was a sad misunderstanding.' Bhelen sighed. 'I don't need his death. He may even stay father's heir. It's the Assembly's place to choose a new king. No one will vote for Trian if they can vote for me.'

'Why would you need me, then?'

'Look, Sigra, you're more popular than me. I am young and people barely know me yet. The nobles would like to choose you. If you told them that you supported me…'

'I support father's decision. Besides, I don't want a liar like you on the throne.'

'Lying is part of politics. Isn't it the reason you hate it? What I want is the benefit of all dwarves. Some lies are necessary, if not acceptable for the greater good. Or do you really think that Trian would be a better king than me?'

'I might prefer other candidates.'

'Whom? Harrowmont? That man is old and conservative to boot. He'll die shortly, and his sons are no better than himself.'

'Father may live a long life, and you have a son…'

'Good plan. And if father dies tomorrow?'

'Then I would know where to look for his murderer.'

Bhelen laughed heartily.

'I see the loss of Gorim hasn't robbed you of your sense of humor, big sister!' He pushed her back into her chair. 'Look around, please. You won't find a better candidate than me. All I ask is your support. If I become king, you will get married to Gorim in a year or less. I promise.'

Listening to him was like eating poisoned honey. It tasted good, it promised death and one still wanted to have more because it was too sweet to refuse. Sigra felt like being poisoned. All she knew was that she needed fresh air.

'Faren, we are leaving!' she shouted. Her second appeared shortly.

'May I ask you not to tell father what we were talking about? It would cause him unnecessary pain.' Bhelen showed them to the door quite politely.

_Besides, I would achieve nothing but my own loss once again. _Sigra nodded in agreement before stepping out to the corridor.


	14. Chapter 14

Overhearing his lady and his nearly brother-in-law gave Faren a great deal of headache.

He could fight and kill nearly any opponent just as fine as the members of the royal guard or any members of the warrior caste. He learnt to do a second's duty in a quite short time. He cared a lot about his family and started to care about his honor as well. Nonetheless, he couldn't understand politics and accept that people in the Diamond Quarter usually had two or even more faces.

All he knew about Bhelen Aeducan was him being a nice, friendly sort of man who loved Rica with all his heart, who had been kind and thoughtful to him and never handled any casteless with scorn or disdain. The prince was a clever dwarf with great ambition and a bright future; someone he owed a lot. If he had a vote in the Assembly, he would have given it to Bhelen without question.

The way the Aeducan siblings spoke made him ask Sigra about the murder attempt against her and Trian. She did not seem happy about his concern but she answered his questions nevertheless. She named Bhelen a liar, a traitor and a murderer. Though the hand, which held the weapon, didn't belong to him, it was his mind behind everything. His denial made it even harder for Faren, because he wouldn't have dreamt of accusing either the prince or the princess of lying, but one of them was clearly not telling the truth. It took him two days to decide whom to blame, and when he finally decided, he himself was wondering how he did not find out sooner.

Everything had to be Beraht's fault.

Faren remembered vividly serving him. Beraht was a criminal mastermind with power and influence, his connections ran from Dust Town to all of the castes. Though he wore the face brand just like the other casteless, he still made a career. He was the one who decided to spend money on Rica's education and clothing so that he could sell her as a noble-hunter. He wanted her to bear a lord's son, and then introduce him as her uncle to the child's father, and poor, good-hearted Bhelen, who always took pity on Dust Town's population, fell into his trap. His noble mind was infected with Beraht's poisoned thoughts of brutality and treachery. Faren had no doubt that the idea of the assassination of the two older Aeducan siblings came from Beraht as well.

Faren loved Bhelen almost as a brother. The prince had been good to Rica. More than good, in fact. She could ask anything from him. It felt good just to look upon them. Moreover, Bhelen seemed to love him as well. He forgave everything Faren did for their living before. He must have had forgiven Beraht as well, and he clearly didn't notice how Beraht was playing him.

_No. don't be a fool. He is a lord, a prince and a politician. Beraht has no power over him. He eats people like Beraht for breakfast._ Faren sighed and dismissed this thought. It was so easy to blame Beraht. The other possibility, that of Bhelen being the devious schemer, was simply devastating.

He wanted happiness for Rica. True happiness, not some twisted farce. She deserved to be loved for the person she was and not because she could aid some prince's claim for the throne as the symbol of all the casteless, as the representative of Dust Town. Bhelen had to be a noble and honest dwarf so that Rica could find the joy of life she never knew.

Faren had been thinking for days, but the he met a decision. He had to speak with Bhelen and warn him about Beraht. Once the prince understood what kind of man his second was, he surely wanted to get rid of him – or at least Faren hoped so.

He stepped out to the corridor as soon as Sigra retired for the night and released him for his rest as well. With quick paces, he hurried towards Bhelen's quarters. He planned to say that he was just visiting his sister and warn Bhelen only when Beraht was out of sight.

Suddenly he heard an already well-known, arrogant voice. He looked around and stepped behind a door on his left. Luckily, he found an empty room. But he would have preferred it full of screaming virgin noble girls rather than meeting the heir of the throne. He grew to hate Trian quite quickly, after the prince caught him two weeks ago and told him in his blunt way what he thought of casteless scum trying to get power and what their fate will be when he becomes king. Faren had a terrible urge to hit him, and avoided him since then. He heard him and his second talking as they walked past him.

'But my lord, Lord Harrowmont surely won't…'

'I don't care about that old fool's opinion. Get him to do it, Gorim. Or should I look for a more competent servant?'

Though he still hated Gorim, Faren deeply sympathized with him at that moment.

'That won't be necessary, my lord. I will…'

'Glad to meet you, master dwarf.'

Faren froze. The last voice was different from any other; he recognized it as Duncan's. He must have been staying in the neighboring room.

'Atrast vala, Warden.' The dwarf's voice was definitely familiar to Faren, though he did not recognize it. 'Good to meet you at last.'

'The pleasure is mine. I understand you wished to meet me.'

'Indeed' the familiar voice continued. 'I am a member of the Legion of the Dead. I heard your call and I'm sure several of my brothers would be interested in joining you and fighting on the surface.'

_Liar._ Faren's teeth clenched. The Legion's members never left the Deep Roads, especially not to become Grey Wardens. Duncan also replied with an obvious doubt:

'I've met the Legion of the Dead several times' he said. 'Yet I can't remember any members wishing to join up with us. We have our job, a very important one, but so do they.'

'Well, my unit must be different, then. I've heard it with my own ears. At least two good men desire to join you but I think there are others who could be persuaded.'

'I'd be glad to meet them, then' Duncan said politely. 'I'll find some time and head out to the Deep Roads, if I can find a proper escort.'

'Don't bother, my human friend. The Deep Roads are dangerous. We wouldn't want you to get hurt. There will be a ceremony and some fights in the Proving for the honor of prince Bhelen's newborn son. Me and some of my brothers in the Legion plan to participate. We could meet then.'

That was an even greater lie. Yet it bothered Faren more why he found the dwarf's voice so familiar. He must have heard it before, several times, in fact. It clearly was not Beraht, but someone well acquainted with him…

Leske!

He left behind his old comrade when they moved into the Diamond Quarter with Beraht, Rica and the baby. He never even thought of Leske since then. It was curious that he could just walk into the palace and seek out Duncan, and he wasn't ever the Legion of the Dead type. There had to be a reason, a scheme, a plot, and it had to be Beraht behind everything. Faren heard enough. He left the room as quick as possible and hurried to Bhelen. He had to save the prince from his second's influence.


	15. Chapter 15

'Faren? Are you planning to visit us?' he heard his sister's voice all the sudden.

'Rica!' He kissed her on the cheek. 'Where is your baby?'

'Little Ansgar is sleeping. A servant maiden watches over him. I just… had to come out. Have a little time for myself. I love him so dearly, but he needs all my energy. And then there is Bhelen…' she smiled as only women in love do.

'So you came out for a walk, didn't you? I hope there were no… atrocities.'

Rica sighed.

'Well, the guards don't greet me like when I'm together with Bhelen' she said with a bit of sadness. 'And I hear the whispering. But that's fine with me. Even if I'm his consort, I cannot make this mark go away…' she touched her cheek.

Faren hugged her.

'My, my, it's still better than back home' he whispered in her ear. 'Speaking of home, have you heard any news form the people we left behind? I was wandering what might have happened to Leske.'

Rica turned away.

'Please, Faren, I hate that man! He never gave up hope to bed me. Beraht's company is more than enough for me. I've told Bhelen that he should have chosen another second, but he just laughed at me.'

_So, his influence is bigger and worse than I feared_. Faren shook his head. _And if he doesn't listen to Rica, he will be even less eager to talk to me about him. Still, I must try._

He decided not to fill in Rica on what he just heard. Of course, he trusted her but he didn't want to burden her with depressing thoughts. They talked a while about the baby, and then he escorted her back to her room. He just left, heading for Bhelen's quarters, when a whispering voice caught his ear.

'Brosca!'

It was Beraht, watching him with cold eyes, and Faren suddenly felt that he was still exposed to him. Just like old times, when he was only a child, but old enough already to realize: the way Beraht was showing him led to conflicts with his conscience. He knew it was wrong to obey the crime lord, who sent him after people not paying their debt or whores trying to keep a part of the money they collected, but he had no other options. Beraht knew his every little dirty secret, even his first stealing attempt, and he had full power over Rica. The tables should have been turned by now, but looking at those cold eyes, Faren felt like a powerless young lad once again. It took all his fortitude to return his gaze like an equal.

'What do you want?'

'Little more caution from you. You should consider whom you are talking to… or about.'

They kept looking in each other's eyes for a very long minute. Faren's anger rose. He was no kid any more, none at all. He served as a commander's second and was related by blood to a prince while Beraht… he got what he wanted like always: by cheating and blackmailing people.

'I don't think it's your place any more to give me permission to speak with my sister. Or anyone else' he answered stiffly.

Beraht smiled at him but his eyes remained serious and cruel.

'Watch your tongue, Brosca! You are still a little boy, especially when it comes down to Orzammar politics. I eat children like you for breakfast. And as for the prince…'

'The prince? I'm sure he'd be interested in how you are related to Rica.' Faren couldn't believe that he was actually threatening Beraht. He felt victorious, but only for a moment. After that, the other second smiled widely at him.

'Speaking of Rica, how can you be that naïve?' His voice was almost like music or a cat's purring. 'Do you _really_ think Prince Bhelen cares for her? It's her _son_ he needs, not herself. If something was going to happen to her… well, maybe he would be a little disappointed, but that's all. Whores can easily be replaced, after all.'

Faren wanted to hit him so badly but he knew he mustn't. Beraht would be in a position to remove him from Sigra's service and maybe even the Diamond Quarter then and it was something he could not afford. He wanted his new life, and he wanted to stay near his sister. He unclenched his fist and asked with a feigned calmness:

'What do you want me to do, then?'

'What you do best, Brosca. _Nothing._'

'Nothing?' he repeated unbelievingly. 'Do you expect me to sit back and watch how…?'

'How Prince Bhelen becomes King Bhelen? That is exactly what I'm expecting from you. Don't try to do anything stupid to mess it up, Brosca, if you want to see your little sister unharmed.'

Faren nodded. He didn't want to, but he knew Beraht's cruelty. His threats weren't ever empty.

'Good' Beraht said, still smiling. 'I knew we would understand each other, as usual.'

'Someday I'll see you dead' Faren whispered.

'I might outlive you quite easily, especially if you keep saying stupid things like this' Beraht replied coolly. 'Now, be a good little second, turn around and run back to your lady. Her bed might need some warming up… Or isn't it what she uses you for, just like that knight before you?'

Faren laughed. It was at least something he could not be charged with.

'Not more frequently than your prince uses you for the same thing!'

He couldn't have offended Beraht more. The crime lord's eyes darkened and he bit his lip so intensely that blood flew down on his chin.

'You'll regret this, I promise!' he hissed while turning away. 'And Rica will regret it even more!'

Faren watched him leaving and felt the sweetness of insulting him turn bitter in his mouth. He just might have made a terrible mistake, he knew.

'Beraht' he spoke before thinking.

To his relief, the dwarf stopped and turned back to him.

'Do you have anything to add, Brosca?' he asked in a tone that made the blood freeze in Faren's veins.

'I want to… apologize. It was a bad joke. Surely you have been joking as well.'

Beraht waited before answering.

'I might have been.'

'I won't forget that we owe everything to you' Faren continued, though he despised himself for this self-humiliation. 'Neither will Rica. You have always been better to us than our own father has. I will do as you have… advised. I am only a child indeed, when it comes down to politics, after all.'

'Make sure it was the last time you disobeyed me and I'll dispense with punishing you this time.'

Faren bowed deeply and remained like that until Beraht left the corridor. Tears burned his eyes when he finally stood.

'You'll pay for this, Beraht! Some day I'll kill you with my bare hands!' he swore, yet he didn't dare to continue his way. He turned back and walked away slowly, and every step he took felt like a knife in his heart.


	16. Chapter 16

Monotonous days passed. The Aeducans and their seconds went on with their duties. Gorim kept shunning Sigra who decided to close her heart and not to show any feelings towards him either. She did not seem to notice Faren's depressed mood and if she did, she didn't interfere with it. Bhelen, on the contrary, seemed quite cheerful and talked only about the Proving in his son's honor. Though he gladly accepted the Legionnaires' willingness to participate, he refused the idea of accommodating them in the Diamond Quarter. Lord Roghem Ivo, father of the late Frandlin, whose great-grandfather led the Legion of the Dead in his time, insisted on taking them in for the time of the Proving, and Trian surprisingly supported the idea, if only to contradict his brother. He could never forgive Bhelen's treachery. The young prince had to give in, though he did not seem happy about it.

Duncan stayed in the Palace. He already found two siblings, Myaja and Lucjan, who seemed to be persuaded and eager to leave with him after the Provings, and he never gave up the hope of convincing Gorim as well. A Blight was coming, after all.

'Let's go down to practice close combat' Sigra greeted Faren in the morning of the day before the celebration. 'I have decided to take part in the contest and win, if the Ancestors give me strength.'

Faren nodded. He wasn't surprised, because he himself suggested it three days ago. He wanted to participate, too, but he dared not to. He feared that Beraht was planning something with the Legion members or perhaps with Leske and he did not want to cross his path.

'You _do _know that Ser Gorim is planning to win, too, don't you, my lady?' he asked. 'Not that it was his idea, I hear. Prince Trian ordered him to humiliate all my nephew's champions.'

'Good. I'm not going to fight for little Ansgar either.' Sigra looked him in the eye. 'Let's talk about other things, Faren. I am going to lead a troop to Zygmunt Thaig, once this celebration is over. If I can win, I will ask my father's permission to take Gorim with me. You will still be my second, though, but I want you to stay here as my eyes and ears. I dare not to turn my back on what's going on in the Palace for a long time.'

Faren bent himself. He could not decide how to feel. He would not want to leave Rica behind but he did not like the idea of his lady's travelling with Gorim either. His jealousy never diminished and he still feared losing his position. More than before, in fact. He was sure that Beraht would find a way to wreak him as soon as he loses Sigra's protection.

'As you wish, my lady' he said. 'I'll bring my weapons, if you'll excuse me, and we can start practicing.'

They spent the rest of the day with fighting. Sigra received several bruises and she gladly admitted that she found dueling with Faren much more useful than with Gorim. Faren's combat style was still new to her, and she learnt a lot from him. He even taught her a few dirty tricks she never saw before.

_He IS a good second_, she thought. _Even if I can get Gorim back, I'll have to keep him around._

She could barely sleep that night. Thoughts whirled in her mind until dawn. She could hardly wait for the beginning of the Proving. She skipped breakfast with her family and hurried down to the Proving Ground. Some of the combatants had already gathered there, most of them greeted her with a big smile. Warriors with a chance to win the tournament did not seem happy, though. Woman or not, she was more than capable of beating them and they knew it.

Her first three or four opponents didn't even make her sweat. She defeated them quickly and stylishly. Then she found herself paired with Bhelen's second Beraht. This combat proved more difficult, but she handled it. Fighters that were more talented followed. Luckily, most of them already had more or less serious wounds while she fought on unharmed. Only her eighth opponent succeeded in seeing her blood and the fights became much more challenging afterwards, but she kept winning, although at least two of her adversaries let her overcome them on purpose. It made her angry, because she was sure that they would expect a token of her gratitude or a small favor in return, but her anger helped her to keep fighting. It was late in the afternoon when she realized that only two of the combatants were still standing. Herself – and Gorim.

The crowd was fascinated. They couldn't have wished for a bigger drama. Sigra drank some water and kept her eyes on Gorim who was fiercely arguing with Trian. He wanted to step back from fighting her for certain, but Trian didn't allow him to do so. Sigra did not need to listen; she could easily imagine what they were saying. Trian obviously made it clear that he expected Gorim to win and that he accepted no defeat.

Sigra smiled. Somehow, it felt right to face Gorim in the arena. He avoided facing her in any other situation, after all.

_I am going to fight for our future_. She suppressed her excitement. The man fought only a slight hint better than she did and he looked quite tired. This was a possibility one rarely gets. She simply _had to_ defeat him.

'Thank you, Faren' she smiled at her second who handed her a towel. She wiped the sweat from her face and handed it back. Faren took it away a moment too late, so she asked 'Is anything wrong? You seem lost in your thoughts.'

'I'm sorry, my lady' Faren replied automatically but he didn't give an explanation. Sigra shook her head and smiled even brighter.

'No harm done' she said. 'All right, I'm ready. Give me another sword, this one is chipped.'

Faren watched as she entered the arena to face the man she loved, but then his gaze returned to the crowd. He was sure he recognized one of the fighting Legionnaires. Although they all wore helmets that hid their faces, that particular man held his left arm in a certain way one of Beraht's associates did. The dwarf had been injured from an arrow in a street fight and his elbow never healed properly. Faren bit his lip. This whole Proving smelled like a conspiracy and he didn't like it at all. He almost told Sigra about his suspicion but he feared for Rica's life, so he decided to keep his eyes open and wait.

To decide it was easier than to do it. He would rather have carried the statues of all the Paragons on his shoulder than the burden of this situation. Now he understood what Sigra meant when they first talked about his becoming her second. Not telling her about his suspicions was the betrayal of the oath he swore and though he knew it very well, he still could not risk his sister's well-being by interfering. Therefore, watching his lady fighting in the Provings, he could barely pay attention to her. He was trying to figure up a way to uncloak Beraht's conspiracy without revealing his part in unveiling it.

Sigra clean forgot about him as soon as she stepped into the arena. She could only see Gorim standing in front of her, avoiding her gaze, his face almost as red as his beard. He would have deliberately lost the previous fight, if he knew whom he was going to fight for the final triumph, but – just like Sigra – instead of watching the other matches he was relaxing and preparing for the next battle.

Thus, now he stood there, weapons at the ready, trying not to remember the times they fought here laughing, smiling, happily. Their duels felt so intimate for him – almost like making love to her – that it was worse than a crime to fight her now, in public. Watching her, seeing her smile – she _was _smiling, he knew it without looking upon her – would have made him drop his weapons and yield, so he kept his glance on the sand of the arena, and listened to his own heartbeat, which appeared to be louder than the cheering crowd around them. He barely heard the Proving Master's voice:

'This is a glory Proving, fought under the watchful eyes of the Paragons of Orzammar for the honor of Ansgar Aeducan, son of Prince Bhelen. It is down to just two warriors. With backbones of stone and wills of iron, they have defeated all others this day! Lady Sigra Aeducan will fight Ser Gorim Saelac, second of Prince Trian, of the warrior caste!'

Sigra bent herself gracefully. She wished to say something that could express her feelings; that she was doing this, doing everything for the two of them. She wanted to confess her feelings to him in front of everyone. Yet her voice sounded quite calm as she spoke the traditional words.

'May the Stone catch you when you fall, ser Gorim.'

Gorim looked up to where Trian sat and replied:

'You honor me with this match, my lady.'

He charged as soon as he finished the last word. All he wished for was to put an end to this fight, yet he didn't want to hurt Sigra's pride and humiliate himself and his lord by simply giving up. The aggressiveness of his attack surprised the princess; she could barely block his sword with hers. Gorim pressed the attack with a speed and brutality he had never shown her before, and Sigra understood his passion. She took it as it was intended; as a sign of love, a confession just for the two of them, and she accepted it with the best combat performance of her life. They danced around each other with hissing swords, attacking and counterattacking, blocking and defending, causing no wounds at all. They forgot the crowd, the Proving, Bhelen and Trian, only the two of them existed. It was not a battle to win for either of them but a secret wedding dance, which bound them together against the will of all people in Orzammar. Sigra wanted to go on forever, never win, never lose, because she knew the painful truth that once the fight was over, they would have to become strangers to each other once again.

_I'll go to Bhelen and tell him that I'm going to support him_, she thought. _Everything for Gorim, everything for the two of us._

Then it was all over. She found herself on her back, lying in the dust of the arena. Gorim stood above her, breathing heavily, and the blade of his sword touched her neck almost gently.

'I yield' she said, dropping her swords. Their eyes met as Gorim held out his hand and helped her stand.

'The winner is… ser Gorim!' the Proving Master shouted. The public started jubilating. Gorim bent himself. He whispered, so only Sigra could hear:

'You are everything for me, my heart. Never doubt this.'

Tears rolled down on Sigra's face. She nodded, unable to speak, and despite of her defeat, she felt happy for the first time since Bhelen's treachery.


	17. Chapter 17

Many people hailed the winner. Dwarves from the warrior caste felt an enormous pride when they saw him overcoming an aristocrat, members of the Assembly standing up for Trian were satisfied with the victory of the heir's second, and those who knew Gorim personally also cheered. Sigra wanted to congratulate first but he left the arena before she could have said anything. Therefore, she made her exit as well. Faren had been waiting for her at the door.

'Let's go home' she ordered and they walked back to the palace silently. Both were occupied with their own thoughts.

A feast followed the Proving until late at night. Sigra decided not to go. She wanted to be able to think clearly the following day, when she wished to approach Bhelen. She knew that he would double-cross her without a second thought and she didn't want to give him the chance.

'I am retiring for the night' she told Faren. 'But I know it is all about your nephew. Feel free to enjoy the celebration as much as you can.'

Faren hesitated. If there was any good time to tell his lady about his suspicions, this was it. However, going to the feast alone gave him a possibility to find proofs without putting Rica in danger.

'Thank you for your kindness, my lady' he said in the end. 'You honor me. I'll be here in the morning if you'd need me.'

'Go' Sigra replied with a sad little smile and he obeyed.

There was no sign of the man he recognized in the feast. In fact, he could not see any of the alleged Legion members. Though this was no real surprise – only nobles could take part in a celebration like this – it made things more difficult. He needed to ask the right questions from the right people while Beraht was watching him closely and in addition to that, most noblemen looked at him as if he was a worm baked into their cake. Only Bhelen greeted him with a wide smile. Rica left early, saying that her son needed her, but Faren was sure that she just wanted to get away from the staring eyes. He turned to her with a sudden idea.

'Let me show you back to your quarters, sister' he said, placing his hand on her arm.

Rica smiled at him and nodded. They left the room together, neither of them intending to return.

Despite of the late hour, the corridors were crowded as well, mostly with guards and servants. Faren could not recognize most of them and it made him even more suspicious. He wanted to say something to Rica, something that would warn her of Beraht or her fragile position; but a gaze in her eyes told him that she was already well aware of all those things.

'Sleep tight, brother' she said and closed her door, before he could have made up his mind to talk.

'Right' he murmured and left. He walked out of the palace and paused only outside, thinking about what to do.

He knew the people he was looking for slept in the Ivo Mansion but it would have been too dangerous to sneak in. If he would have got caught, he would have brought shame upon Sigra's name, possibly losing his job, and of course, Beraht would have known that he had broken his promise of staying out of things. Still, he knew one person from the past who had been very close to Beraht, even closer than Leske; and if he was involved in the crime lord's schemes, so had to be Jarvia.

He turned his back on the Diamond Quarter and headed for Jarvia's base in Dust Town. He hoped the darkness would hide his face from the beggars who once knew him: he didn't want any rumors about his visit. Still, he wanted to do something, find proof he could blackmail Beraht with, and force him to leave Bhelen's service. He still hoped everything would have been back to normal if he had vanished.

He knew a hidden entrance to the underground base that had not been controlled by Jarvia's men. He headed right there, using the sewers to reach the secret door. Once inside, he found his way quite easily. He started running and did not stop until he arrived into an average-looking storeroom with a tricky chest. He had been present not so long ago, when Beraht hid some smuggled lyrium in a secret drawer in its bottom. Something drew him here. Something he believed to be able to use to get out of this nightmare.

The secret drawer was hard to find but it did contain a package of letters. The one on the top of the package was sent from Beraht to Jarvia and though it did not contain anything that would have made their plot obvious, Faren knew nonetheless that he found something valuable.

'Finally' he whispered. Then he got up and left the room, hoping that he will be able to leave just as unnoticed as he arrived. But he ran out of luck: a group of six thugs were waiting for him outside.

'Brosca!' said one of them upon seeing him. 'So glad to see that you've missed us after all!'

'Get out of my way!' Faren replied, placing his hand on his sword.

The thugs laughed.

'You are outnumbered. Your only chance is to surrender. Don't worry, we will return you to the palace… though maybe not in one piece.'

Faren charged. All he knew was that he had to kill them all, so that no one will be able to bring the news of his breaking in to Beraht. Fighting against six armed warriors felt like suicide but he thought of Beraht dragging Rica out of her bedroom and it gave him the courage he needed. He attacked with a movement he had learnt from Sigra and it surprised his opponents. Two of them were dead before they could have drawn their weapons.

The fight was short and bloody. Faren managed to kill all of them but he also got badly wounded: one of the thugs stabbed him in the chest. It must have been close to his lung and bled heavily. Faren wanted to lie down, just for a moment, to gather his strength, but he knew that there was no time for that. If someone had heard the noises of the fighting, they would be on their way now, and he was in no condition to fight anyone else. So, he went back to the room, looking for healing potions. He found one small bottle, barely enough for light wounds, but it could not hurt though it tasted like mud. He drank and waited for the effect. His wounds didn't heal but walking felt much easier and he could also run if he wanted to, even if it hurt like hell.

Yet, there was no time to waste. He left the base and stopped in a forlorn back alley, opening the letters and reading them one after another. As he read on, his face grew more and more pale with every letter and soon he found Bhelen's name as well. There were hints about him becoming the new king, arrangements for the night of the Proving – and Faren understood that there was no time left.

He did not care about his wounds any more. He ran back to the palace, the blood dripping from his chest.

And he was late.


	18. Chapter 18

He could hear the voices of fighting men from the street. Guardsmen lay in the pool of their own blood in front of the palace, some of them still screaming in agony. Faren entered the building with a sword in his hand, trying to forget the pain he felt. At least he was still alive.

The fighting in the main hall was already over. Dead bodies and wounded lay everywhere. Faren recognized some of Beraht's men and it made him want to run to his sister at once. It was hard to stop and think the situation over rationally. Rica was staying with Bhelen and it could mean two things: she was either well protected or beyond help. Though it was not easy, he turned away from the corridor leading to her room. His place was at the side of his lady.

Halfway to Sigra's quarters, he paused once again. A terrible thought came into his mind.

Sigra Aeducan was a warrior, and a fine one. Faren did not believe that a few thugs could have overwhelmed her, at least not in a short time like that. King Endrin however was old and his second wasn't permitted to leave his bed yet. Faren swore and hurried towards the king's bedroom.

He met some of the attackers in the corridor who were just robbing a royal guard's dead body. He did not leave them time to turn and face him: he put all his anger and despair into the movement that killed two of them instantly at the same time and then he finished off the remaining two as well. Then he resumed running.

Three guards stood in front of the king's door, trying to protect it from a dozen or more enemies. Two of them bled heavily. Faren yelled and charged without thinking. Duty overwhelmed thinking in his mind for the first time; he was ready to die for his king.

It was a bloodbath and Faren never understood how he survived. All three guards gave their lives to protect King Endrin and he still had to face seven opponents while he was already wounded and exhausted. He should have died. Still, he managed to survive several minutes and kill two of his opponents when help finally arrived: Sigra charged in with a huge figure at her side. Faren recognized the Grey Warden, Duncan, and he was happy as hell to see the tall human. The thugs didn't stand a chance any more: they were dead within seconds.

'Duncan, go to Harrowmont's and rally his personal guard!' Sigra ordered. 'Faren, you are with me.'

'Aye, my lady Aeducan' Duncan nodded and left.

Sigra shook her head and smiled.

'There are things you should know, Faren' she said. 'My father does not sleep in his quarters at all. He is perfectly safe, though I cannot tell you where. Yet I won't forget that you tried to protect him against a force like that. Are you badly wounded?'

'I am fine, my lady.' Faren felt happy to see her safe and giving orders. He obeyed gladly.

'You lie' Sigra said without anger. 'You don't need to play the hero, you are one already. Are you in any condition to fight, Faren Brosca?'

'Barely' he admitted. 'Where are we going, my lady?'

'The fighting is almost over. We are going to check upon those we hold closest to our hearts. I'm looking for Gorim and you are free to search for Rica but if you aren't able to protect yourself, I'll send an escort team with you.'

'That won't be necessary.' Faren hesitated once again. He still had the letters from Jarvia's base. He should have handed them over to Sigra and he knew it. Finally, he said, 'My lady, I must point out that your brother…'

'I don't want to hear anything about Bhelen before checking on Gorim' she interrupted. 'Trian must have been the main target of this attack and Gorim swore an oath to guard that ass with his life.'

The new sense of duty made Faren say the words that surprised even him:

'Allow me to come with you then, my lady. I just might come in handy if the fighting isn't over in Prince Trian's quarters. I'd say I can manage two or three opponents before overwhelmed.'

Sigra smiled at him.

'Let's waste no more time, then.'

Her smile vanished quickly when they reached the heir's lodgment; all the attackers were long gone and they only found two bodies on the floor. Sigra knelt down next to Gorim with a painful cry and touched her former second's pale face with a loving gentleness.

'He lives, but barely' she sighed and then she started sobbing from relief. 'Faren, he needs help. Bring a healer here as soon as you can!'

'Yes, my lady.' Faren stood next to Trian's body. 'My lady… allow me to offer my condolences. Your brother is dead. There is nothing we can do to save his life.'

Sigra looked at Trian, still holding Gorim. She saw at once that it was true: Trian died defending himself, surrounded by enemies, with the always-loyal Gorim at his side. It was a better death then most, but it was death nonetheless. Sigra bowed her head with a respect she could never feel while her brother was still alive.

'May the Stone catch you, Trian' she whispered. 'Faren, go!'

Faren obeyed, though it was not easy to track down a healer in the middle of the chaos. Finally, he met Duncan and a group of Harrowmont's dwarves who had a healer with them. He gave them the orders he got from Sigra and they hurried to Gorim without question. The knight was the hero of the Proving, after all.

Duncan wanted to ask some more questions but Faren left him. Now that he did everything duty demanded, he was free to look for his sister and it gave him a new strength.

Prince Bhelen's quarters showed signs of battle but there was no one in sight. Faren rallied through them to reach Rica's bedroom – only to find Beraht sitting on her bed, one arm bandaged already.

'Where is Rica?' Faren yelled before the crime lord could have talked.

'She is unharmed… yet' Beraht answered. 'And her well-being depends fully on you.'

'I know everything…'

'And you have proof as well, or so I am told. What do you intend to do, Brosca? Blackmail me? Have you already forgotten the last time you tried to defeat me?'

He stood up and walked closer to Faren.

'Give me those letters, Brosca, or you will see your precious Rica dead before morning.'

Faren's handsome face grew pale.

'I need some assurance that you release her if I give them to you.'

'You won't get anything' Beraht grinned. 'I told you to stay out of it, Brosca. You chose to disobey. Be prepared that your little sister will pay the price in your stead.' He shook his head. 'But I need those letters. Give them to me and I might let her live. Otherwise, you are out of options.'

Faren could not do it. He could not simply refuse and sentence Rica to death. He did everything for the Aeducans he could but it was a different matter. He threw the letters to the bed.

'You know too much and it would be too much trouble to silence you' Beraht stated. 'You may live, and so does Rica. But if you tell anyone about these letters, you both are dead. Am I understood?'

Faren nodded. Had he been in a better shape, he would have slaughtered Beraht right there and they both knew it but he could barely stand.

'Good. Now get out.'

He obeyed once again. He left the room with a painful emptiness in his heart, fearing that he won't ever be able to get out of Beraht's shadow in his life.


	19. Chapter 19

Only a few people gathered in the throne room. The king sent for Harrowmont and Duncan. Bhelen also stood there, though he seemed to be in a bad condition, giving side-glances to the unharmed Sigra. None of the seconds was present except for Harrowmont; and no one was allowed to carry weapons but Endrin and Duncan.

Gorim had been saved. He regained consciousness in the morning. Though he lost a huge amount of blood, the healer said he would be able to get up in a couple of days.

Bhelen seemed to have fought the thugs as well. He limped noticeably and he could not use his right arm. His eyes however seemed to burn in his pale face.

Sigra watched him closely. She was sure that he was responsible for everything that happened and that he only feigned his injuries in order to escape justice. But of course, none of them had proof against him or anyone else once again.

_I guess I should be grateful that he did not arrange for forged letters or anything that could point towards me_, she thought cynically. _Though I'm sure he'll have something to say about my supposed part in the events. He must now that he is the prime suspect… But it's also true that father won't do anything against him without evidence. Finally, father will let him go free and make another attempt at all our lives._

'The members of the Legion of the Dead vanished from the Ivo Mansion, my liege' Harrowmont said to the king. 'I have sent a messenger to the Deep Roads but it will take time to get news from them. However, I suspect that they were no Legion members at all. At least two of them were identified as Dust Town inhabitants.'

'You mean casteless?' Duncan asked.

Harrowmont nodded.

'They might have infiltrated the Legion but I suspect otherwise.'

'I guess we all have our suspicions' Bhelen interrupted, watching Sigra. 'However, there is nothing beyond those words. We must face the facts.'

'Right, let's face them' Sigra replied. 'Trian died. Gorim is barely alive. I have been attacked in my sleep and these thugs wanted to kill father as well. You claim to have been overrun as well, don't you?'

'There is more to it' Bhelen sighed. 'Both my consort and my second have gone missing. What about your Faren?'

'I haven't seen him since he left to search for Rica' she admitted. 'Are you saying it was something they planned all along? Then I can tell that you are wrong. Faren is not the criminal type. Not any more, at least.'

'No, sister, that was not my point. Little Ansgar is unharmed and he is still in his bed. Rica wouldn't have left him behind if she would have gone missing by her own free will. What I mean is that they are not to blame at all. In fact, they were the main targets of this attack. '

King Endrin looked at him with tired eyes.

'Are you forgetting your brother's death?'

'No, Father. I am not.' Bhelen looked him in the eye. 'Lord Harrowmont talked about suspicion. I am talking about logic. Do we know anyone who hates casteless so bad that they would not let the opportunity of killing them and get rid of the royal heir at the same time slip away? Anyone that would get away with this treachery just because that sad misunderstanding two weeks ago makes me your prime suspect, Father? '

The king seemed angry.

'Whom I suspect or whom I don't is for me to decide. But I won't have you talk about your sister like that.'

Bhelen raised his hand.

'There you misunderstand me once again, Father! I am not blaming Sigra at all. She was in the palace. She was attacked along with the rest of us. And eminently, she is a honest and noble-hearted warrior who would never do such a thing. No, Father, I'm speaking about someone who was not present. Someone who avoided the palace for a long time. Someone who would not harm an Aeducan baby if not necessary but openly speaks against the casteless living in the palace. I'm speaking of Lord Harrowmont, of course.'

'Watch you lying mouth, young prince!' Harrowmont stepped towards him. 'My loyalty could never be questioned. What about yours?'

'Loyalty? Is it not loyalty to protect the throne from the ones that don't deserve it? You have despised Trian and hated my new family members. Everybody knows this. Wouldn't you see it as the protection of the Aeducans to put them out of the picture?'

'Enough!' King Endrin stood up from his throne. 'I won't here any more accusations today. I want solid proof and…'

'I can give it to you, your majesty.'

The door opened and Faren walked into the throne room with a dark face. He held a bloodstained sword in his hand, which he lay down before the throne.

'You are not allowed to come in here!' Bhelen yelled. His voice did not contain any warmness, nor relief of seeing him unharmed. Sigra noticed that he didn't ask Faren about Rica's whereabouts either, though if he really loved her, it should have been the first thing to do for him.

_Gotcha, Bhelen_, she thought and she couldn't help smiling.

'Sorry to interrupt, then' Faren said. He looked more at peace with himself than ever since Sigra knew him.

'What have you got, second?' the king asked.

'Letters, your majesty. Letters that prove the guilt of Prince Bhelen and his second, Beraht in trying to take the throne and murder everyone who gets in the way.'

'Lies!' Bhelen shouted. 'Those letters are forgery.' But his eyes revealed his panic.

'Your majesty' Faren bowed without paying the least attention to the prince, 'I guess I should have brought my suspicion to you long ago. Fear for my sister's life kept me from what I believe to be my duty. Finally, I chose not to give in any more to being blackmailed by Beraht whose family had profited from crime long before he was born. I don't know whether Rica is still alive or not but I can report to you that worm Beraht's death. I executed him in your royal name and I brought these letters to you as the proof you will need about this treachery.'

King Endrin was reading the letters while he spoke. Sigra could not tell what he found in the letters but it had to be proof enough because the king became pale as death and sat back to the throne.

'Are you still denying, Bhelen?' he asked silently.

'Are you going to exile me, then?' the prince asked back without admitting anything.

'I am not. Though you are my son, you do not deserve to live. You will be heading to the Deep Roads, Bhelen. Alone and with no weapons. Your name is going to be torn from the Aeducan family records. Try to find honor in your death because you had none in your life.' The king's voice was gray and monotonous; it must have hurt him badly to say these words.

'You cannot do it!' Bhelen took a step forward. 'Not to my son, your grandson! He was born a prince's son but if you sentence me, he will become casteless. Don't do this to your own blood, Father, I beg you!'

'There is another way' Duncan spoke carefully. 'Prince Bhelen may come with me. He can keep his title and no one needs to know what we spoke of here today. Prince Ansgar may not lose his name and inheritance if Prince Bhelen becomes a Grey Warden. And he may yet find redemption in fighting against the Blight.'

King Endrin watched his son and nodded.

'So be it' he said. 'But you will have to leave immediately.'

'As you wish, your majesty' Duncan replied. 'We'll be ready to leave Orzammar within the hour.'

'Go then, my friend. Go with my thanks and the Ancestors' blessing.' The king waved with his hand and turned to his daughter right after the door closed behind Duncan and Bhelen.

'It looks like you will have to become my heir whether you want it or not' he said with a bitter smile. 'And I have something to ask from you as well, something that might be an even greater sacrifice.' He bent his head to Faren. 'I'm told that this young man was ready to die for my life. Now, he gave us the evidence we so desperately needed. Pyral is a fine man and the best second a king can have. Nevertheless, I find myself in urgent need of a capable bodyguard. Young Faren Brosca must leave your service for mine. However, I hope that the good Ser Gorim will be able to take his place at your side quite soon.'

Sigra sighed.

'I don't want to take the throne, Father. This is what I told Trian and his death did not change my opinion. But I understand duty. I'll try to be a good ruler in Orzammar if the time comes for it.' _And I will marry Gorim as soon as I'm on that throne_, she added in thought.


	20. Epilogue

Epilogue

Prince Bhelen Aeducan, newest to the ranks of the Grey Warden, stood among a group of tall humans. It was a distinguished company consisting of Duncan, a young Warden called Alistair, the famous Teyrn Loghain Mac Tier and the handsome, blond Cailan Theirin, King of Ferelden. The king and the teyrn were arguing about Cailan's fascination with the Grey Warden or something like that; Bhelen wasn't really paying attention. These humans meant nothing to him. He just wanted to get back to Orzammar as soon as he could. Neither the coming battle, nor the well-built fortress of Ostagar could move him the slightest bit.

Finally, Cailan and Loghain finished arguing and started to talk about the battle to come. The Tower of Ishal had a vital part in their plans: the tower's beacon had to be lit in time in order to show the teyrn's men when to flank the darkspawn horde.

'I have a few men stationed there' Loghain stated. 'It's not a dangerous task, but it is vital.'

'Then we should send our best' the young king replied. 'Send Alistair and the new Grey Warden to make sure it's done.'

'What?' Bhelen lifted his head. 'It's ridiculous! I am a prince and I refuse to be sent on a servant's errand like this.'

King Cailan looked at him angrily for a moment. Then he sighed.

'Fine' he said. 'Duncan, you are with Alistair. Make sure to light that beacon. Master dwarf, you may join me and your fellow Grey Warden in the attack, if you find that sufficient for a prince.'

'As you wish, your majesty.' Duncan bowed his head while Bhelen stood there, feeling victorious and not knowing that he had just changed Ferelden's history forever.


End file.
